Something Wicked
by deeeliciousink
Summary: October Oakley was living a perfectly ordinary life in 2018 when she unexpectedly gets sent back in time to resurrect the Lost Boys because apparently she's a witch. At least that's what a mind reading cat told her. If only said cat would tell her how to get back to 2018, preferably before these vampires kill her. Because what goes better together than Vampires and Witches?
1. Welcome to the 80's

July, 1987 Santa Carla

Between one step and the next, October found herself standing in the smouldering ruins of a house. She slapped a hand over her mouth to stifle a gasp as she stood frozen in abject horror.

_What the actual fuck!_

Debris and gore surrounded her and most of it was on fire. It looked like the house was caught in the tail end of a disaster flick. Hell, there was an entire car parked through a gaping hole through the front of house!

Something really, really bad had gone down there. And recently too, she could tell because the air was still thick with smoke from the hungry flames.

_Fuck I gotta get outta here!_

She took a step back and in the dark with clumsy steps, stumbled over splintered wood. She could hardly see through the hazy air where an exit might be. As she took in the house's layout, she caught sight of the red light drenching the next room in an eerie glow. Drawn to the light, she took a step towards it… and that's when she saw the impaled body.

"Holy FUCK!" she gasped, trying not to gag at the awful sight.

She blinked back tears as the putrid air began to sting her eyes, at least, that's what she told herself at the time.

"What is happening right now?" she whimpered as she backed away.

Meow!

She spun around, her heart lodged in her throat.

Before her, a black cat sat staring up at her with acid green eyes. Somehow this was the least strange part about that night.  
And then, she didn't so much as hear that she so much as felt where she had to go and what she had to do. Though she was still a little bit frightened, she was filled with a new purpose as she stared into those bright green eyes.

The black cat blinked and turned away from her, padding towards the stairs. The girl followed in a daze. Up the stairs and into the wrecked bathroom, the black cat stopped.

Meow!

The cat pawed the ground, pointing in a certain direction expectantly. She hesitantly followed where it was looking with her. There, resting in a bathtub of foul colored water, was a human skeleton with bits of flesh clinging stubbornly here and there.

She looked back to her furry guide questioningly, her stomach turning at the thought of how those flesh peeled off their bones. The cat offered no advice. Merely stared at her in what she could only call anticipation.

"Oh man this is so messed up," she whined, turning to face the bathtub. "Am I in The Shining right now?"

_You know what you have to do,_ a voice whispered in her head. _So do it. And then we can leave this horror show behind._

She jerked her gaze towards the cat in shock. The cat merely winked at her, its tail flickering lazily across the wet floor in amusement.

"I am definitely going to need to get my head checked after this," she muttered to herself, shaking her head.

She lifted a hand and stared at it. This felt right. The voice said that she knew what to do and she realized it was true. She flipped her hand palm up and concentrated. To me, she commanded, staring at the half submerged skeleton. The air became heavy and the puddles of water on the floor rippled with vibrations. She curled her fingers into a fist. Just as she knew would happen, the skeleton rose from the murky water and hovered in the air.

The cat purred, pleased, before darting out of the room and down the stairs again. She followed close behind, the floating skeleton bringing up the rear. Debris was shoved aside and flames smothered by an unseen force as she approached the house's den. Already waiting for her, the cat was seated near the remains of a busted stereo.

Meow!

She arched a brow.

The cat continued to purr as it stared her down.

"Alright. There's no skeleton but alright," she muttered.

She stretched out her hand and repeated her commanded. To me. Her senses reached out to every corner of the room and pulled whatever human remains there was towards her.

Her stomach turned when various limbs and bloody chunks of a person began to collect into a sickening tumbleweed of viscera. The gorey remains hovered in the air. She had to fight the urge not to gag.

Meow!

She eyed the cat as it darted past her heading right for the room with the red light.

_Okay. I think I know where this is going now,_ she thought as she collected herself.

Together they made one seriously creepy parade as she trailed after the cat with a couple of human remains floating behind her.

The cat planted himself beside the corpse. She was definitely feeling a little green around the gills as at the gruesome sight before her.

_Last one,_ the voice in her head told her.

"Great."

She pursed her lips and tried not to make direct eye contact with the antlers sticking out of the man's chest. Instead, she examined the man's pale face. Despite the rebellious haircut and dark attire, there was an angelic quality about the man's face in death.

For the third time that night, she commanded _To me_.

It was the awful squelching sound of muscle sliding along the antlers as the body was separated from them that almost did her in. Bile rose in the back of her throat and she had to take a few deep breaths to fight it back down. Her eyes watered with the effort. Once the man's body was freed the cat began to paw at her leg.

_Let's get a move on already. You've got a very tricky spell to do. Can't do it here._

She blinked warily down at the cat.

"What? Spell? I don't know what is going on! I sure as hell don't know where I'm supposed to go!"

Except, as soon as the words left her mouth she knew it was a lie. Somehow she did know where to go. And how to get there. She didn't stop to think about how weird that was.

The cat winked knowingly at her.

She cautiously lifted her hand again and snapped her fingers.

Everything went black.

She found herself standing not in the house but elsewhere. "Holy shit! Did I just teleport?" she exclaimed in amazement.

Pivoting, she took in her surroundings, noting that the bodies she recovered had traveled with her. She stood in a hotel that was more cave than hotel. the only light came from the jagged mouth of the cave, doing little to illuminate more about where she found herself.

Meow!

Her gaze strained through the darkness to make out the black cats movement towards the back of the cave.

_This way!_

She huffed in annoyance. "I don't suppose you have a flashlight or something!" she called after the animal.

The oil drums scattered around the room burst with flames as well as hundreds of candles, startling her.

"Jesus! Give a girl some warning next time!" She put her hand over her thundering heart.

_Hurry up! And grab those unlit candle sticks!_

"Bossiest telepathic cat I have ever met," she muttered under her breath.

_And that was the weirdest thing I have ever said out loud before,_ she thought bemusedly.

Still, with the way lit conveniently for her, she found the dozen unlit candles on a ledge along the far wall and cradled them in her arms.

She timidly crawled through the narrow alcove the cat had disappeared in.

"Fuck, I don't like this," she whined quietly, feeling a growing sense of claustrophobia. She had half a mind to turn around and get the hell out of this random cave. If only there weren't a couple of floating carcasses behind her.

Eventually, she could go no further. The candles flew out of her arms and spread out around the cavern in perfect circle before they lit themselves. She wrapped her arms around herself and looked around.

The ceiling of the cave room was more than tall enough for her to stand without stooping and wide enough to accommodate the human remains without hovering too close to her. This was the stuff of nightmares, she decided. But she was here for a reason.

_Now we can begin._

The cat laid down on his side, making himself comfortable. She wished she could feel so at ease. With a wave of her hand, three shallow graves opened in the ground and each respective remains sunk into them. Another wave with her opposite hand covered them with dirt.

Before she could ask what she needed to do next, the palms of her hands were sliced open as if by an invisible blade.

"Shit! What the hell?!" she cried, looking to the cat in shock.

_Oh hush. The spell requires blood. Now try to drop some over the graves before you waste any._

The indifferent look in the cat's eyes frightened her but she knew it right. So she squeezed her fists shut, and gravity pulled the seeping blood to water the hungry graves. At the third one she made to stop but near its side was a raised mound of dirt that she knew belonged to a fourth grave. The cat spared her a look of pride at her deduction, further confirming what she already knew to be true.

_Now the real work begins. Be warned. This may take a while._

As though possessed, she stood at the heads of the graves inside the circle with her palms held out ceremonially and unintelligible whispered words formed on her tongue and slipped past her barely moving lips. A single thought and command running through her thoughts.

_Rise._

* * *

David was the first to rise.

The vampire burst from the makeshift grave with a roar, face monstrous and dirt streaked, and very much undead. For a frightening moment he didn't know where he was or how he got there. Then, like a brick to the head, all the events leading up to his second death came rushing back to him.

He pivoted, frantically calling out in his mind for his brothers... even though deep down he knew that he was alone. That is, until his furious gaze landed on the girl. His yellow eyes narrowed into slits as he took in the scene. The girl stood within a circle of candles with her eyes closed and arms stretched out. He could see her lips moving but even with his superior hearing, could barely make out anything she was saying except for unintelligible whispers.

A black cat hissed at him from along the wall, its hackles rising.

He struck, his hand closing around the girl's neck in an iron grip. She startled, her eyes snapping open. At the sight of his monstrous face she let out a terrified gasp.

"I'm only going to ask this once: Who are you? How did I get here?"

The girl trembled. "M-my name i-is October," she stuttered in her fright.

It wasn't exactly all the answers he'd been hoping for. His thirst urged him to cut his losses and just feed on the girl already. Still, something wasn't quite right here and he refrained.

"Hello October. That's a nice name you have there." Too bad it didn't mean anything to him.

"I don't, uh, I really don't understand how but I brought you here. And the others."

_Others?_ David thought wildly. She couldn't be talking about the boys. He watched them be slain. Marco gutted. Paul disintegrated. Dwayne blown apart.

_Brothers…_

His chest ached.

"I'm trying to bring them back. But you have to let me go so I can finish the spell. It can't be interrupted for too long or it won't work."

David's thoughts halted for a moment. Spell? Who was this girl? Part of him wanted to know why this stranger was trying to bring his brothers back from a permanent death, but that part was overshadowed by the blossoming hope of seeing them back on their feet.

"Don't let me stop you." He released his hold on her.

She backed away from him. The black cat growled at him and skulked closer to the girl's feet, glaring at David all the while. He raised an eyebrow at the creature before his gaze returned to October.

"Just so you know. If you're playing a game with me, if you don't bring them back, I'm going to tear your throat out with my teeth," he told her softly as he tucked a strand of her dark hair behind her ear.

October shuddered, hyper aware of David's eyes on her from where he leaned against the wall to watch her. She forced herself to keep her eyes on the graves in front of her. Resuming her stance, her arms held out, she willed the spell to come back to her.

"This will take a while. I'm not sure how long exactly. But I am going to bring them back. I think…" she hesitated, "I think I was sent here to bring them back."

David crossed his arms. "Who sent you?"

He received no answer. The girl was already deep in the throes of the spell with her eyes shut. At her feet, the black cat continued to glare at him.

* * *

A/N: This story is cross posted on AO3 and Wattpad under different usernames (eyesandarrows + LovelyylevoL) respectively.

* * *

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit is being made from this work.


	2. Resurrection

October hadn't been exaggerating. David watched her standing there, chanting with her eyes closed, for hours.

During that time, he sized her up. She was a short thing, but curvy. Definitely cute with her flowing dark hair and bold black lipstick. He likened her black dress to the one Wednesday Addams famously wore. If only Wednesday Addams wore black combat boots, tights with skeleton legs printed on them, and a black leather jacket.

She didn't look like a witch. Not that he knew what a witch looked like. His thoughts eventually strayed to Max as much as he tried to avoid it. There was a void in his blood that hadn't been there before and deep down he knew it was because Max was dead. Perhaps they weren't on the best terms recently, but there was a time when his sire had been the entire world to him.

It was hard to believe the older vampire was gone for good. David tried to recall if he had ever mentioned meeting a witch, if they even existed. The girl before him definitely looked like a witch, standing in a circle of candles with her bloody palms held over three shallow graves whispering who knows what in a language he didn't recognize. Not to mention, she was his only hope if his brothers stood a chance coming back. October had said someone sent her to fulfill that very purpose.

David knew there was no way in hell he had some kind of guardian angel looking out for him. He dreaded to find out just who had sent the witch and what they had planned for him and the Lost Boys. He doubted it was anything pleasant.

The black cat that had been guarding her suddenly took off out of the cavern. David didn't think much of the animals behaviour until the thing came back dragging a couple ragged blankets he was sure were from Star's and Laddie's beds. He thought that a little strange.

Things got a little stranger when he felt a shift in the air. Something was happening and he could sense it. He straightened up and looked to October. Sweat beaded on her brow from exertion. The whispering became stronger.

He watched in suspended disbelief as Dwayne crawled out of his grave, coughing up dirt and gasping for breath. David moved from the wall and the grave between breaths, snatching up one of the blankets as he did.

"David?" Dwayne rasped as David wrapped him carefully wrapped his nude form in the blanket.

"I'm here, brother," he murmured softly, helping Dwayne sit up in his arms.

"David," Dwayne repeated, trying to get his attention.

He knew without words what Dwayne was asking. He looked to October. She appeared to have been brought to her knees and yet she still continued the spell. The black cat rubbed itself against her hip, purring.

"Someone sent a witch to bring us back. I don't know who. Didn't even know there were witches," he explained.

"Something's wrong," Dwayne said, leaning heavily against his brother.

Of course he knew exactly what was wrong with every beat of Dwayne's very human heart.

_One problem at a time,_ he thought.

"You should get dressed. Can you stand?"

Dwayne nodded and David helped him to his feet.

"Get some clothes on. The witch said the spell takes a while to perform. I'll watch over things here in the meantime."

David didn't have to see his brothers face to know he sported a severe expression. And yet, the man ambled away in search of his clothes without argue. All the things he left unsaid remained in his absence leaving David to mull over how to even go about approaching them. He was no closer to an answer when his second in command returned in spare set of clothes. The cat paid the man no mind, instead dutifully resting at October's side.

David absently noted that Dwayne had actually donned a shirt for once, probably because his favorite leather jacket was gone for good.

His second joined him seated along the cavern wall, facing the witch.

David spared him a glance. "You should rest."

Dwayne rolled his eyes. "I'll rest when I'm dead," he retorted.

The joke was definitely too soon and that made David crack a smile. Together, they settled into a pleasant silence. Stuck in a stand still, they knew all that was left to do was wait. And wait they did.

* * *

The only warning him and his second in command had was the split second the otherworldly whispering spiked and the anxious shifting from October's cat.

Paul burst from his grave with a hoarse shout. He coughed up dirt as he cursed.

"Jesus fuck! Oh shit! What the fuck!"

His flailing around made wrapping a blanket around him all the more difficult, but David wasn't about to let his newly resurrected brother sit naked in the dirt.

"Easy, Paul," David grunted, finally getting his brother's attention.

"David!" he exclaimed, staring wild-eyed at the platinum blond. "Oh shit, man. Something's wrong."

He watched David exchange a look he couldn't place with Dwayne. It was odd that he didn't know what his brothers were thinking. Come to think of it, it was odd how fast his heart was racing. Now that he actually slowed down enough to realize it, his heart hadn't beat this fast since he was...

"Oh shit! Am I…?"

The word abandoned him at the hard expression on his eldest brother's face.

"Human?" David quirked a brow. "Yeah. Dwayne too."

Damn, Paul thought he was gonna have a heart attack. "How the fuck is that even possible?"

"Why don't you get dressed. Dwayne will explain everything. I have to stay here," David told him, offering no room for discussion.

His second in command helped Paul to his feet and shuffle out of the cavern. David listened idly to Dwayne give Paul the rundown on everything they knew so far in his familiar dolcett tone and then Paul's incessant questions about witches. Speaking of witches…

David observed October intently. She had readjusted into a meditative pose in an attempt to make herself more comfortable. She did not appear to be more comfortable, however. He easily spotted the slight tremors of her arms as she strained to hold them up and sweat was beginning to collect on her brow. Something told him that she was nearing her limit. Not knowing what else to do or how to help, all he could do was hope she had enough juice to perform one last miracle.

* * *

The whispering became deafening for a full minute before falling eerily silent. David could instinctively tell something was different this time. He shifted anxiously, eyeing Marco's grave in anticipation.

And then October collapsed onto her side.

_NO!_ David thought frantically as he scrambled to her side.

Her black cat hissed and growled at him while he shook her listless form. "Wake up! You're not done yet! You have to bring him back!" he roared. "Damn it, October! Wake up!"

His cries brought Dwayne and Paul running. They hovered over their leader, taking in the scene with growing trepidation. They were all thinking the same thing. It didn't look good. Marco had been dead the longest. Maybe October wasn't strong enough to bring him back too. She said the spell couldn't be interrupted for too long. She was unconscious and there was no way she was waking up any time soon.

Just when they began to give up hope, pale fingers inched out of the dirt where they had buried their murdered brother.

"Marco! Hang on buddy!"

Dwayne and Paul dove to the ground, frantically digging through the dirt and pulling their sluggish brother from his grave. His eyes were hooded and he appeared to be in worse shape out of them all. But he was whole and alive. Dwayne glanced in David's direction, conveying his unspoken question with a look.

"He's human, too," their leader confirmed grimly.


	3. October Meets The Lost Boys

October roused groggily from unconsciousness slowly. Whiskers tickled at her face and a wet nose poked her chin. With a groan, she heaved herself into an upright position. Her vision swam and once it cleared she was struck with the realization that she had no idea where she was or how she got there.

"So the witch isn't dead."

She whipped her head in the direction of the droll voice and immediately regretted it when she felt a storm of a headache brewing in her skull.

She faced the blond from before. The one who had been impaled on deer horns. The one who she brought back from the dead. The one who threatened to tear her throat open with his teeth.

He was seated regally in a battered wheelchair, parked in front of the bed she was perched on. She recognized that they were in the opening chamber of the cave-hotel. The candles were still lit and the barrels were still burning.

"I've got questions," the blond continued.

October shifted uneasily. The cat brushed its side against her arm, purring.

"And you think I've got the answers? I don't even know your name," she rasped, her voice rough and scratchy. She could use a glass of water. And some food. "How long was I out?"

_Twenty four hours,_ a voice whispered in her head.

The cat mewed at her and she stared at the creature with wide eyes. That still sane part of her brain that was stubbornly clinging to a sense of normalcy railed against the idea that the cat was speaking in her mind.

"Here's how this is going to work: For every question you answer," the blond said with only a brow raised at her strange behavior, "I'll _think_about answering one of yours."

October felt as though she had just experienced the most bizarre dream only to wake up in an even stranger one.

"I suppose I don't have much of a choice so go ahead. Ask away. I can't guarantee you'll like my answers," she told him tiredly, figuring this might as well happen.

"Better hope not. For your sake," he warned her. "Who sent you?"

She sighed in frustration. "No one? I don't know. One second I was walking home and the next I was in some house that was on fire," she complained. " Wait, did you call me a witch a minute ago? Rude."

"It's what you are, isn't it?"

The cat mewed in what could only be agreement. October looked to the cat. The furry creature winked at her after it settled in her lap. A familiar sensation came over her and it was the same sensation as when she used magic for the first time. Instincts that she didn't know she had, knowledge she couldn't possible know was somehow within her this whole time.

She shuddered.

"I guess I am," she admitted, avoiding the blonds eye. "I didn't know before I walked into that house. But I know now."

In was in that moment that David began to understand just how little October actually knew about what was currently happening.

"How exactly did you know to bring us back?"

October shrugged. "I just...knew. And the cat talks to me. Helped me a little."

David truly could not tell if she was joking or not. The realm of witches and witchcraft was entirely foreign to him. He decided it was better to err on the side of caution and take everything she said seriously.

"The cat talks to you? Did it tell you about this place?" the blond asked incredulously.

October huffed in annoyance. "I don't even know where this place is! I teleported here with your body and bunch of other human remains. It was gross and I've probably been scarred for life."

The voice in her head whispered to her, _You're in Santa Carl's old hotel. The one that got hit by the quake in 1906._

_Santa Carla?_ October frowned. She remembered how she used to visit the boardwalk of Santa Carla every summer when she was a kid. She never knew there was a hotel in the ground somewhere. "Hang on. Is this where you live? In this hell hole?"

The blond ignored her question. "What did you do to my brothers? Why did you bring them back human?"

October frowned. "As opposed to...what else exactly?"

Suddenly, the blond caught a mischievous glint in his eye. His face changed before October's eyes. Those angelic features of his rearranged into demonic forms as his eyes flared yellow. She actually recoiled at the sight of his fanged grin. The cat in her lap hissed at David.

October screamed. "Y-your face! What the fuck?"

_He's a vampire, October,_ the words slithered into her thoughts.. _Don't fret. You can take him._

He didn't look like a vampire from any movie or show October had seen before.

She held up a hand as if to hold him back. "Are you going to kill me now?" she demanded to know. "You've got your brothers back. You don't need me anymore, right?"

The vampire closed his eyes and his face melted back into attractive human features. When he opened his eyes, he regarded her calmly. She hesitantly lowered her hand, still unsure as to whether or not she could trust him.

"I'm not going to kill you, October. I need you to tell me what went wrong in your spell so I can fix it," he explained.

The cat growled softly. _You performed the spell perfectly. There was no mistake made._

October's gaze darted between the cat and the vampire worriedly.

"The cat says nothing went wrong," she relayed.

The vampire scowled at her. "Then why are my brothers human while I'm not?"

The cat sniffed indignantly. _He was merely injured when we found him. A simple healing spell was needed for him. The rest were not so lucky._

October clenched her fists. "God, I can't believe this is my life now," she muttered under her breath. "You didn't have to be resurrected like the others because you weren't totally gone like they were. "

David did not like hearing that one bit and she could tell with a sinking dread.

"Maybe this is a good thing, David," Marco piped up as he entered the chamber from a hidden alcove.

October snapped her head in the newcomers direction. He and two other men, David's brothers she assumed, crept into the chamber. David lazily wheeled his chair a little ways back to regard them cooly.

"Boys, this is October," David introduced casually.

The cat in her lap mewed loudly.

David spared the creature a glance. "...And that is October's cat. It talks to her."

Marco nodded thoughtfully. "Kind of like a vampire's hellhound."

_I'm a witch's familiar,_ the cat griped, flicking his tail with attitude. _I am far more civilized than those demonic mutts._ October filed this bit of information away to examine later, but she sure as hell knew she never wanted to meet a hellhound.

"How exactly is the three of you being human a good thing, Marco?" David asked snidely.

Marco smiled at him. "You can turn us. That way you'll be our sire, like you should have been in the first place."

October could have sworn David's hard exterior cracked some. This was clearly a tender moment between the four guys. She almost felt like she was intruding on something. Although, she found it endearing how much he cared about his brothers and how much they so obviously cared about him.

"Could use a witch right now. Offer protection until we do turn," Dwayne added.

The threat of the Emerson clan still loomed over them. Not to mention, if word got out to their enemies that more than half the Lost Boys were human, they would be sitting ducks. Having a witch on their side would give them the edge they needed.

"I'm sorry, what?" October interjected. "Who the hell do you think are that you can just keep me here against my will?"

"We're the Lost Boys, little witch! And you're going to be our new Lost Girl!" Paul crowed with a manic grin.

His words had zero effect on October. "You're the who now?"

David actually laughed. She looked at him as if he had grown two heads. Trying to decide if hearing a vampire laugh or simply hearing David laugh was stranger, she came up short which was stranger.

"I'm David. The loud mouth is Paul. That's Marco," he gestured at the curly haired blond. "And lastly, there's Dwayne. People call us the Lost Boys."

David's brothers flanked him on either side as they smirked at her and October had to admit she felt intimidated while they stood before her. David himself may be sitting down, but she felt as though he was looming over her, pinning her to the bed. That wasn't what bothered her, though.

As she stared at standing side by side, she began to notice things. Like the fact that their hair was a little too long to be fashionable and teased to high hell. The fact that they were dressed in crop tops and pants tighter than emo skinny jeans stuffed into boots. The fact that there was a giant poster of Jim Morrison plastered to the cave wall. And the fact that October would rather die than believe she had resurrected a bunch of hipster vampires. All this lead her to conclude that these former vampires, and current vampire, had seemingly walked out of the 80's.

_It is the 80's,_ her familiar informed her disinterestedly, licking its paw.

_IT'S WHAT NOW?_ October balked.

"No, no, no. What year is it? No! There's no way…" she trailed off as her horror grew.

The Lost Boys exchanged strange looks.

"It's 1987," Dwyane intoned.

October paled. Nineteen-freaking-eightyseven. And she thought teleporting had been extraordinary.

"What year did you think it was?" David wondered.

She blinked owlishly, still coming to grips with this news. "2018."

"Man, I have lost time to some serious trips," Paul guffawed, "but I've never tripped so hard I time traveled!"

"This can't be happening," she whined.

Frantically, she grabbed her familiar under its front legs and held the cat up so they were eye to eye. "How do I get back?"

When the familiar did not answer immediately, she shook the cat much to the creatures displeasure. The furry thing yowled at her and wiggled out of her grasp. She scrambled after it but Dwayne caught her around the waist before she got past him.

"No! Wait! Come back here!" she barked as her familiar darted away and hid.

Groaning in frustration, she wrenched herself away from Dwyane. "Damn it!"

"Looks like you're stuck here for now." David smirked.

October could scream she was so mad. And scared. She was stranded literally years away from home and had no immediate way back.

The witch blinked back angry tears because she would be damned if she cried in front of these boys.

"If I'm going to be stuck here, I'm giving this dump a few upgrades." And she knew just the spells to get the job done.


	4. Getting Along

"HOLY SHIT!" Marco's and Paul's voices rang out in unison.

David and Dwayne were thinking the exact same thing, and October to a lesser extent.

Her familiar had not re-appeared as she prepared the spell. That was the first time she ever performed magic without the cat's guidance. And yet, she still managed just fine. Better, actually, than she thought she would.

In what she could only assume was once the lobby of the old hotel, but was now the main chamber of the Lost Boys cave, she cast her spell. The motions of the magic came to her as though it were muscle memory. She opened her arms like she was going in for the world's most generous bear hug… and then slapped her hands together in a clap! Cave walls shuddered and candles flickered wildly. Delicately, she interlocked her fingers. All the lights were snuffed out in gust of wind leaving the group in darkness so absolute, even David with his vampiric sight was rendered momentarily blind.

Paul cursed.

And then, suddenly, the chamber burst with light greater before. They shielded their eyes, cringing at the onslaught. When their eyes adjusted, they couldn't believe the sight before them.

They stood in the spotless lobby of a hotel that never met the ill fate of an earthquake, complete with electric lights and an intact fountain. Behind the front desk, the giant poster of Jim Morrison stood out like an eyesore against the vintage furnishings. Where there had once been jagged corridors dug into the cave walls, there now was long corridors leading into the rest of the hotel.

"Not bad," David concurs.

October smiled smugly at the vampire who was clearly fighting to conceal his amazement. The rest of the Lost Boys didn't even attempt to hide their delight. Paul and Marco excitedly made their way to the front desk where a row of keys were set out as if by, well, magic.

Dwayne peered skeptically up at the grand chandelier hanging from the flat ceiling. "Where is the electricity coming from?" he wondered aloud.

October hummed thoughtfully. "I've got a feeling you guys are all going to be asking me very logical questions about all the impossible things I can make happen. So, as a blanket answer I'm just going to state right here and now, it's magic. So yeah."

Dwayne smirked at her reply, accepting her blanket answer without argue. Instead, he made his way to his brothers to collect his room key.

"There's proper plumbing too. At least, I hope there is," she muttered.

"What about all our stuff?" David asked her.

October shrugged. "It should appear in the rooms you guys choose."

Right. They would not be bunking together any time soon. Or hanging from exposed pipes together. Because his brothers were human now and they would need their own space until they turned. He scowled.

Paul and Marco were already tearing down the hallway, seeking their room numbers assigned by their chosen key. Dwayne followed at a more sedate pace.

As she went to grab one of the last two keys, October was hit with a nauseating lightheadedness. David watched the witch nearly miss a step mutely. She picked a key at random and slowly followed along the wall down the hallway. David snatched the last key and trailed behind the witch with silent steps.

He leaned against the bit of wall beside her room's door, merely watching as she fumbled with the key. Her trembling hand couldn't seem to fit into key securely into the keyhole. The sight would be hilarious if it weren't so ridiculous. Unable to continue watching her struggled, David snagged the key from her much to her annoyance, and opened the door for her. She spared him a sour look before storming past him. He sauntered in after her.

The hotel room looked just as he remembered when the hotel first opened. Turn of the century furnishings complete with modern electric lamps. Of course, give or take eighty years the word "modern" was to be taken lightly as everything in the room was a remnant of a time long past.

"What are you doing?" October demanded.

She stood leaning against the post of a four poster bed with her hands on her hips. "Give me my key and get out."

David stood his ground, clutching her key in a fist. "How am I supposed to believe you can keep us safe when you can barely keep your shit together now?" he growled.

October sighed heavily, rolling her eyes. "Look, I just traveled through space _and_ time, not to mention I performed a necromantic ritual _three_times over, I also rebuilt an entire hotel all without food or water in the past I don't know how many days it's been. I. Am. Tired."

David's eyes narrowed into slits. He stalked closer to her, invading her personal space. "What's to keep a couple of amateur hunters from visiting the place they already know we live? Anyone could just walk in. How do you intend on keeping my brothers safe?"

She just wanted to crawl into bed and deal with everything that had gone insanely wrong with her life the next day. Instead, she had to deal with this mullet sporting vampire. With growing impatience, she glared at him.

"There's a glamour on the place so strong that will make anyone but us too terrified to come anywhere near the entrance, _you ass_."

The vampire's face changed into something monstrous as he bared his fangs at her with a snarl. October screamed when he gripped a fist full of her long hair, exposing her neck.

The sound of distress caught the others attention and they all came running. A flash of fear ran through each of them, along with irritation. Running to the witches room took way too long when they were used to moving from place to place in an instant. Their mortal bodies felt like they were weighed down with lead. When they burst into the room they surrounded David, but didn't touch him. They knew it would be pointless to try to man handle the vampire.

"David, man, stop! We need her!" Dwayne shouted at him.

Thankfully, that was all it took for David to snap to his senses. The expression on his face was one of horror, as though he couldn't believe what he had been about to do. October was fighting back angry tears as David let her go. His brothers shared body language relaying how afraid of him they were in that moment. Normally anyone around him would be wise to harbor a healthy dose of fear. But not his mortal brothers.

"When was the last time you fed, boss?" Marco asked with a troubled look. "You've got a couple hours before morning, you should go."

Marco had a point. David hadn't fed since before Marco got staked. That had been _days_ ago. He wasn't a young vampire by any account but even he tended to lose a little self control when he went without blood for too long. The very last thing he wanted was to accidentally hurt his now very human brothers because he was hungry.

The vampire avoided everyone's eye as he turned tail and exited.

"Bring us back some food, maybe?" Paul called after him as he fled the hotel.

* * *

Star was not especially motivated to start conversations with Lucy Emerson. After the world's most awkward introduction bleeding into history's most uncomfortable explanation of how she met the woman's son, it was no surprise the two ladies had spent days following the massacre at the Emerson house at a polite distance of the other. Their current living situation was difficult enough. Lucy and her father had managed to scrape together enough money for a pair of decent motel rooms while they sorted out the destruction of their house. The fire damage was extensive and the house would likely have to be torn down. The Emerson's had already salvaged what they could from the burnt out husk of a home. It wasn't much.

That day, Grandpa Emerson was laid up in the boys room while Lucy, Laddie, and Star were tending to their clothes in the motel's closet of a laundry room. Lucy had Laddie on folding duty while they waited for the machines to run through their cycles. Meanwhile, Star refolded Laddie's poor attempts at folding. Together, they worked in companionable silence. Except, Star was mentally wrestling with what she wanted to talk to Lucy about. She had no idea how to bring it up. Or how to put it into words that would convince the older woman she wasn't making wild accusations. The only she was sure of, was that Lucy would not like what she had to say.

Her furtive glances at the woman clearly were not subtle because Lucy met her eye with a gentle smile. "I can tell something is on your mind, dear. What is it?"

Laddie was looking at her now, entirely curious.

Star felt put on the spot, even though she had intended to speak to Lucy. She delicately placed the shirt she was folding down. Without something in her hands, she wasn't sure what to do next. She wrung her hands nervously.

She began, uncertain. "Your father has been… really tired since the fire." They had collectively agreed to refer to the Lost Boy's attack and consequent defeat. "Has he always taken the time to rest during the day?"

God, she felt so transparent. Even Laddie was looking at her strangely. Star inwardly cringed.

Lucy's mouth dipped into a frown. "That night took a lot out of him. He's not as young as he used to be."

Star wrung her hands. She couldn't do it. There was no way she could even bring it up. And maybe she was wrong.

"Nevermind. I'm sure it's nothing," she sighed, returning to her folding.

Lucy took note of how odd that attempt at conversation was. Laddie kept his head down as he haphazardly folded a long skirt. With years of experience raising two trouble making boys under her belt, the feeling that something was wrong grew exponentially.

When the trio was finished with the laundry, they returned to their room. The entire way Lucy could see that Star was lost in her thoughts. The older woman was content to let Michael's girlfriend come to her when she was ready. She didn't have to wait too long.

Lucy was checking on her dad while he took a midday nap when Star knocked lightly on the door.

She smiled at the young woman when she opened the door. "Yes dear?"

She noted how Star hesitated to enter the room.

"I don't mean to start any trouble. You've been so kind to me and Laddie when you barely even know us," Star rushed to say.

Lucy's fear that something was indeed wrong, spiked. She didn't let it show. "I promise I won't get mad at whatever you want to tell me. You can talk to me, Star."

She just had to come right out and say it. Star braced herself for the resistance she was sure Lucy would out up. This was the part she dreaded. "I know what a vampire looks like before their first kill first hand. Your dad…" she trailed off. "I'm worried about him."

Lucy wasn't sure she had heard the girl correctly. The word 'vampire' kept ringing in her ears. She ushered the young woman into the room.

Lucy shut the door behind them. "I'm sorry, you think my dad is a… a vampire? Why would you think that?"

"Because she's right," a voice cut in from the farthest bed.

The two women looked to Grandpa Emerson. He was propped up weakly, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Lucy had to have heard him wrong.

"Dad, what do you mean by that?" she hesitated to ask.

Star inched closer to the door, her eyes darting from Lucy to her father and back again. This was definitely not how she pictured this conversation happening.

"The night of the fire, the Widow Johnson slipped her blood in my drink. I should have caught it sooner," Grandpa Emerson admitted.

"What do we do? How do we fix this?" Lucy immediately demanded.

Grandpa Emerson caught Star's eye. She didn't have to be a vampire to read his mind. She knew exactly what he was thinking. The only way to fix this would be to kill whoever this 'Widow Johnson' was. Except, he didn't want them to. He didn't want to put his family through that again. Or maybe, just maybe, he couldn't bear the thought of killing the Widow Johnson.

They all jumped as the motel room door burst open.

Star and Lucy spun around to see Sam and the Frog brothers spill into the room panting as though out of breath. They didn't wait to read to the room before they dove into a raucous explanation.

"You'll never believe what is on the news!" Sam hollered.

"There's been another murder! Last night!" Alan was quick to elaborate.

"Definitely a vampire! No doubt about it!" Edgar raved.

Lucy blinked twice as their words sunk in and then she turned to her dad. Star stared at the older woman apprehensively. She was sure Michael's mother would never forgive her for bringing so much misfortune into her family's lives.

"Well don't look at me," Grandpa Emerson joked. "I was here all night."

His joke completely went over the three boys head.

Sam grabbed his mother's hands, forcing her to look at him. "They're back. They've got to be, mom."

Lucy didn't know what to say. How did she comfort her youngest child when she herself was so far out of depth? Not to mention, her dad's current condition still needed to be addressed. What she had to do was stand back and look at the facts logically.

On the one hand, Santa was considered the murder capital of the world by the locals. With the vampires gone she had hoped her hometown would lose the awful reputation. On the other hand, she didn't quite hold much faith in the young and impressionable Frog brothers grip on reality with their overactive imagination. The last thing she wanted to do was jump to conclusions.

"We don't know if it is them, for certain," she ventured. "But it probably couldn't hurt if we got out of town for a little while. At least until school starts in the fall."

And even though it didn't make much sense, Star couldn't help but feel that this is the kind of shit that happens when she tries to talk to her boyfriend's mother.


	5. Grief

October was swaying on her feet as she all but threw the three former vampires out of her room.

They retreated to Paul's room without much ceremony. Instead of resting, they each claimed a spot around the room and amused themselves with something or other. Paul sat cross legged on the floor in front of a box of records. Marco splayed out on the bed with a bottle of booze. And Dwyane pulled out a book to read at a table.

What went down in October's room was left unmentioned. No, a different thought simmered in the back of their heads as they awaited their leader's return. They each tried to ignore it, push it down. Marco tried to drown it in alcohol. Dwayne repeatedly read the same page over and over again. And Paul could only thumb through the same collection of records so many times.

Paul paused in his browsing. "Do we talk about it?" he broached the question hesitantly.

Marco cracked open an eye and glanced at Paul from the corner of his eye. He said nothing. There was no need to ask what he meant. He already knew because he was thinking the same thing. They all were.

Dwayne looked up from his book, scowled, and turned back to what he was reading. "What's there to talk about?" he countered.

"Michael."

Marco sat up and the others turned to the open door. David casually entered the room with a bag of takeout food. He set the bag down on the spare table Dwayne was reading at before claiming the loveseat on the other side of the room.

David stared hard into the distance. "We trusted him. Made him one of us. Then, he betrayed us."

The word 'betrayal' in no way shape or form remotely covered what Michael did to them. What he did to them forever changed them.

A heaviness settled over the room. The boys left the food on the table left untouched. In silence, they each contemplated the events that delivered them to their fate and it left them feeling carved out and hollow.

"We _died_," Marco stressed.

The emotional outpour was a delayed reaction. As though saying the words out loud, a damn was broken.

Suddenly Marco couldn't breathe. Horror welled up in his chest and pressed on his lungs. Dwayne noticed right away. He moved to the bed and pulled his brother into his arms. Guilt stabbed at him because no matter what he did now would never undo what had happened. Marco had been murdered in his sleep and he hadn't been able to save him. David and Paul felt similarly, especially seeing Marco in this state. They gravitated towards the others until the four of them came together in a group embrace.

With the memory of Marco dying beside them still fresh, the weight of their mortality, even David's, was almost too much to bear. David had almost died. The others actually _had_ died. All at the hands of a couple of amateurs! Never before had their antics backfired so tremendously.

The promise of eternity is what being a vampire was all about. The Emerson clan robbed them of that promise. Now that three out of four Lost Boys were alive again and, for the moment, safe, they were fearful. Fearful of fate coming back to finish the job.

In that moment they shared their grief unreservedly. That's how October found them. Huddled together, teary eyed and trembling.

"What's going on? Are you guys okay?" she gasped as though she was out of breath from running. Her hair was damp from a bath and her clothes were slightly askew like she got dressed in a hurry.

Marco growled at her. "We're having a moment here."

October faltered. "I felt… I thought something was wrong." A beat passed as the tumblers in brain turned. And then, something occurred to her. "Holy crap, I can feel what you guys feel!"

The four Lost Boys shared a skeptical look as they broke apart their huddle..

October shook her head at them. She stared down at the scars on her palms. Only thin, silvery lines ran down the life line on her palms remained of the cuts. Somehow, they were already healed. Then it clicked. "Oh I get it. I used _my_ blood in the ritual."

The Lost Boys did not seem to pick up what she concluded. "And that means what exactly?" David asked.

October crossed her arms and frowned. "We're connected."

"Like a sire bond?" Paul gave voice to what they were all wondering.

If she said yes it would mean that she could give them orders they would be compelled to obey. They could tolerate being linked to someone they just met, but a sire bond was definitely a worst case scenario. David was supposed to be the leader. His brothers would chose to follow him over anyone else.

October blinked owlishly. "I don't know what that means."

David shot a warning glare at the others. "Don't worry about it," he interjected. "There's food on the table. You're welcome to it."

October looked like she wanted to argue, but the thought of food was too good to pass up.

"We're going to need to talk about how this whole living situation is going to work. I don't know about you, but I can't live off of take out food alone. And it's not like I was able to pack a bag when I traveled through fucking time," October complained as she nicked a burger and some fries.

Paul snickered in response to David's scowl.

"Goodnight, October," their leader growled.

October sniffed indignantly before stalking to towards the doorway. "Evening, boys," she replied coolly, flicking her long hair over her shoulder.

Her breezy exit lightened the tone of the room and the Lost Boys were grateful. David watched from the loveseat as his brothers dug into their dinner with careless vigor. For a moment he could pretend everything was as it had been. Nothing was different. He didn't have to worry about his brothers mortality and how terrifyingly vulnerable they were.

They had enemies. Of course they did. You don't live as long as they have without making a few. Not to mention, Vampires were territorial by nature. If word got out that the Lost Boys were vulnerable… David shuddered at the thought of what their enemies would do to his brothers. They would probably make him watch, too. There was no way he was going to watch his brothers get massacred again.

He needed to turn his brothers, and soon.


	6. The Last Sunny Day

October tossed and turned in her sleep. Nestled in a grand four poster bed, she dreamt fitfully. At least, she thought she was dreaming. She dreamt she shrouded in a darkness so absolute she thought she had been struck blind. Her other senses, however, were not as blinded and painted a shadow of picture.

Could a person have an out of body experience in a dream? Because strangely enough, that's exactly what this dream felt like to her. Somehow, she was simultaneously experiencing the dream and easing dropping from around the corner all at once.

_The air was cold just as it was every night after the sun went down. She knew she was by the ocean from the stench of salt water and fish. She thought she was alone until_ he _started to speak._

"_Do you love them? Truly love them?"_

_The question was posed with the underlying severity of life and death. Meaning the answer she gave would decide if she lived… or died. Then again, if she was really being honest, she was dead the minute the man had her in his sights. It didn't matter what she said. Nothing could save her now. Exactly how her dream-self knew this to be true, she wasn't certain._

_She surprised herself when her dream-self answered the question. "If I lie and say no, will you let me go?"_

_The man ignored her dream-self._

"_In your eyes they can do no wrong." Her dream-self knew "they" were the Lost Boys which meant so did October with a creeping sense deja vu. "So, you won't mind if they just kill you now."_

_A jolt of terror shot down her spine. Whatever this was, she didn't like it. She made to run for it, fight back, anything to gain a little control of the dream. There was no way for her to know if she could move at all. Her body was completely paralyzed as though she were trapped within herself as the dream played out, whether she wanted it to or not._

"_Please don't do this. Please don't make them do this. Not just for their sake. For yours too. They will never forgive you if you do this to them. If you're going to kill me, do it yourself asshole." Again, the words came unbidden from her dream-self. October really wished that dumb witch would shut up before she got both of them killed._

"_But then, they will never learn. This way they won't make the same mistake twice."_

_October may not have known as much as her dream-self, but she thought that they could both agree on how much they hated this guy._

"_What exactly was their mistake?" Her dream-self spat venomously._

"_Loving you."_

_At this point October decided to stop trying to make sense of her dream. The Lost Boys in love with her? All four of them? At the same time? She called bullshit on that. Not even in her dreams was that possible._

"_Boys."_

_October became aware of four other presences. Her dream-self knew they were the Lost Boys. Paul to her left. Marco to her right. David and Dwayne behind her._

"_Drain her dry, but make it slow. I don't want a single drop wasted."_

_Between one heartbeat and the next, October felt four pairs of fangs sink into her flash and she wept and she wailed._

_It's okay…_

_It's okay…_

_It's not your fault…_

_This isn't any of your faults…_

She blinked blearily in the dull light of her room and realized she was awake. Slowly, she sat up in her bed leaning heavily against the headboard as she wiped away the stray tears fallen from her eyes. She hadn't realized she had been crying in her sleep. She didn't think that was even possible. Her dream self had been crying, though. October had felt the tears stream down her face.

Before she could analyze what she just experienced, a meow came from the foot of the bed, catching her attention.

_Time is funny, isn't it?_ The cat mused almost sadly from where it jumped onto the bed.

"What are you talking about?" October croaked, her voice thick with emotion.

_You're starting to remember._ The way the cat said it made October think the word "remember" was more significant than she would have immediately assumed.

"Remember what?"

_Keep dreaming and you'll find out._ The cat replied cryptically before settling into a ball.

"Am I stuck here?" October threw the question out there. "In the 1980's, I mean."

The cat peered at her through one opened eye. _I don't know. Are you?_

October rolled her eyes. "God, you're the worst."

A rapid staccato knock sounded from the door.

She stared at the closed door warily, knowing one of the Lost Boys had to be behind it. Part of her was reluctant to face any of them after her nightmare fueled dream. Regardless, she found herself slipping out of bed, amid the cat's mew of annoyance from being jostled.

Paul greeted her with a grin far too bright than anyone who only had about five hours worth of sleep had any right to be.

"Good morning," he drawled flirtatiously, gaze raking over her sheet clad form.

October realized in her daze, she had forgotten she was in her underwear with only a sheet to cover her up. She immediately regretted answering the door.

Blushing, but refusing to be embarrassed, she raised a brow. "Can I help you?"

Paul chuckled. "Had a feeling you were awake. Thought I might invite you out with us for our last day in the sun while we can enjoy it."

October couldn't help but note it sounded as though he was asking out on a date. Which was ridiculous. Her sleep deprived brain was obviously reading into things. And anyway, she would never go on a date with someone sporting a mullet… or the most gorgeous jawline she's ever laid eyes on.

"One of us could lend you some clothes if you like," he continued when she didn't immediately reply.

She definitely was not keen on wearing the same dress for almost a full week. And she wouldn't mind getting a little fresh air.

"Actually yeah. That would be most appreciated. The longest shirt you have I think should do it." She could probably wear one of their shirts as a dress she was short enough.

"You got it. I'll be right back," he beamed and retreated down the hall.

She exhaled deeply when he left. Today was gonna suck. Vampire pun not intended.

She met the others in the lobby, dressed in a sleeveless tank top that reached her mid thigh over her skeleton leg tights paired with her signature leather jacket. Paul whistled upon seeing her. Dwayne and Marco smirked. Her stomach fluttered with butterflies at the warm reception.

"Ready?" Paul inquired cheerfully.

"As I'll ever be," October quipped as she followed them out of the hotel.

They led her up some rickety, wooden steps. She squinted out at the ocean, completely taken aback at the hidden hotel's entrance set in the cliffside. The sight was a welcome one after spending a week in a windowless place. She felt more grounded now that she had a better idea of where she was.

She stopped short when she realized the boys were no longer beside her. Pivoting, she spotted them standing at the cliffside, faces upturned at the midday sun. Seeing them like that, struck silent for once and devoid of all emotion but wonderment, almost made her want to turn away to save them some dignity.

She thought about how in her dream the Lost Boys had been encased in utter darkness. Now they were drenched in sunlight for the first time in who knows how long. Seeing them like that made it difficult to reconcile what she felt in her dream. There was still so much she didn't know about these men.

Spending the day with them seemed like good place to start. And if she could pick up some groceries while she was out, all the more reason. Though, that might be a bit difficult considering the lack of trunk space on motorcycles. Regardless, she knew she would figure out something to make it work.

She dragged the tarp off the bikes and called to them, "Hey! If you guys want to bask in the sun, let's go find a beach!"

That got their attention. Paul and Marco whooped and bounced over to their bikes. Dwayne sauntered over to her, which she wasn't expecting. God, to be caught in his determined gaze. Her body was _not_ ready. The tarp slipped through her fingers to the ground as she apprehensively shuffled her feet.

He stood before her just taking her in. October stared right back at him, her mouth suddenly dry. She wondered if she was supposed to say something.

Corralling Marco and Paul's enthusiasm she could handle, but Dwayne's aloof presence threw her off. Just as she was brainstorming a witty one liner he turned away and reached for his bike's handles.

"You're riding with me," he told her.

She blinked. Damn, how did he do that? Completely draw her in with a look, then fein indifference like he wasn't doing it on purpose. The audacity...

The rumble of the motorcycles brought her back to attention.

"Hop on." Dwayne looked at her over his shoulder. Sweet baby jesus, he looked good on that bike. They all did, really. Dangerous and sexy.

She swallowed nervously. "W-wait. I need to put a glamour on you guys. So people don't recognize you."

"Good idea, witchy lady," Marco praised her. "Go for it."

The three of them looked at her expectantly.

"Uh, right." She hurried in front them, the spell taking over her muscles.

The magic guided her movements as she knelt down and grabbed at what appeared to be thin air. Marco and Paul looked on amusedly as October seemingly mimed lifting a sheet and flinging it over them and their bikes. They waited for something to happen. A flash of light, some smoke maybe. Hell, a cloud of glitter to signify the presence of magic. Nothing. Until they felt the added weight on their heads and shoulders, as if they were wearing an extra layer they couldn't see.

October awkwardly mounted Dwayne's motorcycle. "Um, you guys don't happen to have a helmet laying around, do you?"

Paul and Marco cackled as they peeled out, down the dirt road. Dwayne just smirked at her over his shoulder as he revved the bike. October slid her arms around his waist and she felt her palms began sweat. It was like gripping a tree trunk to her chest. If that tree trunk had rock hard abs.

They were off flying down a dirt path, October holding on for dear life. The longer they rode the more and more the boys felt the difference. No longer were they gifted with supernatural dexterity. With every bump in the road and strong gust of wind they were only too aware of how mortal their bodies truly were. A most thought made its home in the back of their minds. One bad accident and they might not be able to walk away unscathed.

Just like that, what once made them feel alive now reminded them what it was like to meet a violent end.

It might have taking them a little longer than usual to reach the boardwalk, not that October would know. Somehow they each non verbally agreed to abide by laws of the road. They even took the time to park in legal spaces.

October did a double take as she took in the boardwalk.

"Whoa," she breathed. "I used to come here every summer when I was a kid. Everything looks so different now."

Marco raised a curious brow. "You said you're from the year 2018. Does that mean a little you could be running around here right now?"

October tilted her head and stared at him through slitted eyes. "This is the 80's, right? I haven't even been born yet, so that's a no."

"Easy, girl. He was just asking a question," Paul chuckled.

October huffed haughtily and Dwayne rolled his eyes. "Let's get some grub," he grunted and set off towards the boardwalk.

As the group navigates the sparse crowds of the boardwalk, a thought occurred to October.

"I don't know about you guys, but my wallet didn't exactly make the trip through time with me." She eyed the various food stands as she rubbed the back of her neck.

"Food's on us," Marco flashed her a wink. "It's the least we can do."

Heat flared up her neck at the sight of the wink, but she attributed it to the fact that she was wearing a leather jacket in summer at a boardwalk.

It took her a moment for her to realize the curly haired blond was referring to how she had brought them back to life. "Right. Cool. 'Preciate it." She nodded her head maybe a few too many times for it to be natural.

As they waited for their order, another thought occurred to her. The Lost Boys were creatures of the night and their hair band inspired aesthetic didn't exactly scream 'employed'. She wrestled with the mystery as the boys dug into their food and talked about how different the boardwalk looked in the daylight.

She blurted out, "How do you guys pay for all your stuff? Do you have some kind of vampire savings?"

Paul laughed around a mouthful of food. "Yeah, something like that."

Dwayne shook his head at him with a grin before shifting his gaze to October. "We pick up cash here and there. It adds up."

She raised a brow. The vague answer might have thrown someone else for a loop, but she was no fool. She could read between the lines. The boys sensed this and curiously waited for her reaction.

She merely hummed thoughtfully, under no illusion that fish and chips weren't the only things in a vampire's diet, before turning her attention back to her own tray of food. Secretly relieved, the boys carried on their earlier conversation, though the lingering sense of caution remained in the back of their heads. They wouldn't allowed themselves to be taken by surprise. Not again.

With their bellies full, the group at last made their way to the beach. Families dotted the stretch of sand here and there. The Lost Boys gave them wide berth. Instead, they claimed a slightly more secluded spot and planted themselves in the sand. At least, Dwayne and October did. Marco and Paul ditched their shoes immediately and booked it to where the ocean lapped at the land.

October watched the two boys enjoy the water for a couple of minutes. They looked like a couple of regular guys messing around at the beach. The image was difficult to reconcile with everything she knew about them.

Because she didn't have her phone to keep her otherwise preoccupied, she decided to mentally list all the things she did know about the Lost Boys.

_1\. The Lost Boys were vampires._

_2\. They've definitely killed people before._

_3\. They steal from their victims._

_4\. Someone totally murdered them._

_5\. They were connected to her now because of the spell she performed to bring them back from the dead._

Sighing deeply through her nose, she came to the uncomfortable conclusion that she didn't know hardly anything about these guys. Plus there was her bizarre dream yet to be factored in. Her familiar was convinced it was memory. She wasn't so sure.

Dwayne glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. "Something wrong?"

October worried her lip, debating whether or not it was worth it to barrage the poor guy with a million questions he likely wouldn't answer. God, where would she even start if she did?

Hesitantly, she started, "So David is planning to turn you guys tonight. In a couple of hours, really." Dwayne gave her nothing in response beyond a blank look. "That's exciting," she added with a forced grin.

His eyes narrowed and October stiffened. He didn't even have to tell her to just get to the point. She got the message from his expression alone.

"Are you really sure it's such a good idea?" she relented.

He raised a brow at her, which if she was reading him correctly, was similar to how he would look at someone who suddenly sprouted a second head. "Why wouldn't it be?"

She frowned. "A good idea? Has it not occurred to you that maybe you might be safer as humans?"

He shared her frown. "Not a chance." Obviously done humoring her ridiculous questions, he turned back to watching his brothers.

Maybe she was being ridiculous. She continued to sit there, trying to soak up the sun's rays and ignore the nagging questions taking up fifty percent of her brain. It wasn't long before she knew she couldn't let it go.

"Who did you guys piss off enough to actually kill you guys?" she blurted out. "I was there in that house. It was a massacre. I literally picked up pieces of you."

Bracing herself for the vicious blowback she was sure she had coming, Dwayne surprised her with heavy silence. He refused to meet her gaze, or even glance in her direction. While she was quickly getting used to his lack of response, she felt that this time was different. He just stared out at the stretch of beach, seeing something she couldn't, though something told her he was remembering something.

"You want to know who killed us? Someone who couldn't stomach the way we live," he returned bitterly.

As much as she didn't want to press him for more answers, she needed to know. "They're still out there, aren't they?"

He simply nodded.

Of course they were. It was no wonder David almost bit her head off about the safety of his brothers. Still, to think that there was someone out there the Lost Boys might be afraid of was not a comforting piece of information.

"If you turn, won't they just try to kill you again?" she pointed out.

A beat passed and he then caught her eye.

"When we turn," he corrected her in a sharp tone. "Not if."

Once again he drew her completely in with a single determined look. Only this time, her fight or flight response made an appearance as it tipped towards flight. For a split second she was reminded of her dream and the savage moment four sets of fangs sank into her skin. She could still feel phantom pains in her arms and her neck.

" _When_ we turn, we won't give them a second chance."

October believed him.


	7. Bottoms Up

Night fell and David awoke to the raucous noises of his brothers chattering away over the blaring of a television. His first thought was _Where the fuck did they get a television from?_ Though, that's not to say he was strictly annoyed by the racket. On the contrary, he was glad to hear it. It reminded him of how their lives were before the Emersons.

He sauntered out of his room and down the hall, relaxed and curious as to what his brothers had gotten up to during the day. Most of the noise was concentrated in October's room. While he was slightly hesitant to enter the witches space again after what he almost did to her last time, he drifted inside anyway. The door was open, after all.

After a long week of carrying all the stress of picking up the pieces of their lives, the sight inside warmed his cold dead heart some. Paul and Marco lounged on the floor loudly picking apart the plot of the Scooby Doo movie playing on the hefty TV set placed against the far wall from Octobers bed. She was curled up against the headboard with her familiar and she was complaining about how she couldn't hear the movie over their yammering. Dwayne was draped across the room's loveseat with a bag of kettle corn, just watching everybody in silent judgment. He was the first to acknowledge David with a simple nod. David returned the motion.

Marco and Paul finally tore their gaze away from the screen and beamed at him. "David you are not going to believe what October did!" Marco exclaimed excitedly.

David's eyes flickered to Dwayne in question but he only received an indifferent shrug. He raised a brow at October next. She glared at him levelly.

"Do tell," he replied to Marco.

The curly haired blond bounded to his feet over to a large beach bag cast against the wall by the TV. David eyed the ordinary looking bag impassively. An eye wateringly bright neon decal was splashed haphazardly across the canvas. He couldn't imagine what was so special about the otherwise innocuous object. However, his jaw dropped when Marco actually crawled _inside_ the beach bag and disappeared.

_No fucking way_ he thought to himself as Paul laughed at the expression on David's face.

And then Marco's head popped out of the bag's opening. "October made the bag bigger on the inside! She said she got the idea from some book that hasn't been published yet called _Harry Potter_," he delightfully explained.

David blinked in astonishment as Marco crawled out of the beach bag, all 5' 7" of him.

"I had to carry all the groceries somehow!" October chimed in.

At the sound of her voice, David quickly schooled his features. "And a TV, apparently," he returned.

Paul laughed at the pout October sported. "We also got new clothes for everybody," she muttered defensively.

David, ignoring October's comment, turned his attention back to Marco. "You get what I asked for?"

At that, the curly blond tossed him a plastic funnel. October watched the exchange in confusion, which David also ignored. "We meet in the lobby in one hour," he told his brothers.

"We heard about a party at a motel tonight," Dwayne added.

David nodded his acknowledgement.

As he turned around to exit the room, October piped up. "What's in one hour?"

A sly smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. His brothers knew exactly what that look meant. And just like always, it fueled their anticipation as they shared matching grins.

"You'll just have to wait and see." David left the room, taking satisfaction from the little shiver that ran through the witch out of the corner of his eye.

Purely out of curiosity, he found himself pausing outside the room, just out of sight from the door, and he mentally reached for the delicate strands of the bond connecting him to October. He caught a stray thought.

_Damn, his voice is sexy as fuck._

He chuckled in amusement.

As he started forward again, he caught another thought. Although, it was really more of an impression of a thought as it was brief and fleeting.

Intrigued, David decided to follow the suddenly diverted drain of thought. First, he gleaned that it was a dream. A dream about him and his brothers. At least, that's what October seemed to think. David didn't have any images to go by.

Now he was really intrigued.

_HISS_

He glanced over his shoulder in surprise. October's familiar crouched low behind him, hackles raised and fangs bared. He raised a brow as a deep growl emanated from the angry creature.

"Caught me snooping, did you?" he asked the cat with a charming grin. "What do 'ya say we keep this between us?"

The black cat hissed at him again before turning tail and darting back into October's room.

David grunted and returned to his room with the funnel. Awaiting him atop his dresser sat a half empty bottle of wine. He set the funnel next to it and began to roll up his right sleeve.

"Cat better not snitch on me," he muttered grumpily to himself as he tugged his gloves off.

His features changed as his fangs descended. With delicate claws, he placed the funnel into the mouth of the bottle then he paused as he regarded the bottle. The wine itself wasn't anything fancy. On the contrary, it was something they had picked up at a gas station a week ago when they gassed up their bikes. And yet, he couldn't help but compare it to the jewel encrusted vintage that he himself had drank out of when he turned. In all the decades Max had entrusted the bottle with him, not once had David bothered to ask exactly how his sire had infused the wine with his very blood.

The bottle David had to work with seemed paltry in comparison. With it's clear glass and nondescript label, it appeared cheap. Mundane. Not something that was about to gift his brothers with immortality. Quite the opposite. This "wine drink" was the type of wine you would buy at the last possible second as a gift for your boss to thank them for inviting you to their anniversary party.

Sighing deeply through his nose, David worked to dispel any thoughts of Max. He was going to be a better sire to his brothers than that psycho ever was. Cheap wine be damned.

With that thought, he tore into his wrist with his fangs and held the bleeding wound over the funnel.

"OH HELL NO!" he heard the shrill protest from down the hallway.

He tried to not feel ridiculous when October burst into his room and caught him like that. Were it not for the expression of utter disgust and complete befuddlement on her face, David might have been successful. That mischievous part of him wanted to take advantage of the rare moment he caught the witch speechless and say something funny like "it's not what it looks like". Instead, his pride urged him to take a more defensive route.

"Do you mind?" he growled, feel a painful twinge as the wound started to heal.

October stared unblinking as the wound sealed itself shut before her disbelieving eyes. Only when David savagely sank his fangs into his wrist again, maintaining full eye contact as he did so, did she finally blink.

"Excuse you? Do _I_ mind? My familiar just told me you were reading my mind!" she snapped at him. "Also, when was someone going to tell me you can read minds?"

This was the last conversation he wanted to have while bleeding into a wine bottle. "You never asked," he retorted amusedly.

The more blood he lost the slower the wounds healed, which was somewhat convenient at the moment, but an annoying ache bloomed around the area of the bite marks.

October winced as his fangs sliced through the thin skin of his barely mended wrist again. "I… I get that I'm some stranger who came out of nowhere and now we're connected somehow. You still don't know who I am or what I'm capable of and that's scary. But I deserve a modicum of the privacy and respect you reserve for your brothers."

He rolled his eyes, refusing to acknowledge how he was most definitely in the wrong and she had a point.

"I'm not scared of you," he lied.

She was literally watching him bleed in front of her and it made him feel uncharacteristically vulnerable. Not that he would admit it. He began to wonder just how much blood was needed for three guys to turn.

"You should be," October insisted. "I mean, I'm scared of me!"

With a wave of her hand, the bite marks on his wrist sliced open in wide gash as though an invisible knife had cut him. He hissed at the sudden attack, jerked back in surprise and knocked the funnel askew. The blood was really flowing from the gash on his wrist and it was not slowing down as it splattered across the table's surface.

Quickly righting the funnel, "What. The. Fuck," he grunted, glaring heatedly at October.

Regret flashed across her face and she swiftly apologized. "Sorry. I'm sorry. But you weren't paying attention and I needed to get the message across."

"Message received," he growled.

He was frantically trying to keep his panic at bay. The deep wound was not healing.

She squinted suspiciously at him, as though questioning his sincerity which he did not appreciate. Figuring it was as good as she was going to get, she cautiously stepped closer to him. Her hands trembled slightly as she reached towards his wrist. A terrifying thought occurred to him. He would bet the witch could bleed him out until there was nothing left if that's what she wanted.

"Do you have enough?" she asked softly.

Was she taunting him? Playing with him before she ended him? He had been right not to trust her after all!

"To turn your brothers, I mean," she elaborated.

A beat passed as his brain sluggishly caught up. His gaze darted from her intent eyes, to the bottle, and then back to her waiting face. He nodded dumbly.

She gently took his hand in hers. Delicately, she turned his hand over so the wound faced upwards. She placed her right hand over the gash and the next thing he knew the pain was gone. When she lifted her hand away, the blood was gone and the gash was healed.

She backed away, eyeing the door. "There must be a reason I was brought to this time, to this place. But if you don't want me to encroach on your… tribe or whatever, I won't."

For a moment, he seriously considered what she was offering. Not that it mattered he took her up on it or not. They were connected by forces he didn't fully understand. For better or worse, they were stuck with her.

He moodily tugged his gloves back on as he collected his thoughts. "Come with us tonight. Call it a test."

Her brow furrowed in confusion. "What happens if I fail your test?"

The glare he shot her was scathing.

She wrenched her head up and down in frantic nod as she stumbled towards the door. "Right. Got it. Don't fail the test."

* * *

When the hour was up it found October lingering in the hallway just outside the lobby. The lights were out save for the haunting glow of a hundred or so candles placed haphazardly around the room. As she surveyed the scene from what she deemed a safe distance, the scene read 'sacred ritual', that is if said sacred ritual was being performed in what was obviously a hotel lobby to the beat of some seriously riotous 80's rock blasting from a radio. As she thought about it, it felt more like a cult initiation that she was watching all things considered.

The four Lost Boys were loitering around the lobby dressed to the nines, or at least their version anyway. Probably waiting for her. Wondering why she was taking her time.

She herself didn't understand why she was hesitating. Sure, she could say it was because she was frightened of the consequences of failing David's "test". Only, she knew herself better than that.

_Any evening now, darling, _her familiar cooly prodded her at her feet. _We haven't got all night._

October pursed her lips in a frown, ignoring the cat.

Yeah. No kidding. She could see the boys getting antsy just standing around, especially when they were so close to being reunited with immortality.

Why was David so adamant about her being present when it happened? Why make it into a test?

_Maybe it has something to do with who hurt them?_ her familiar suggested.

That actually checked out. She thought back to earlier in the day when she asked Dwayne about their mysterious murder. He had said of the killer that they were "someone who couldn't stomach the way we live".

Now, the reason behind David's test was beginning to make sense.

_You know, after drinking the head vampire's blood, in order to fully transition, they have to make their first kill. Or else._

October bit her lip nervously and regarded the furry creature. She hated to ask but… "Or else what?"

_Or. Else._ The black cat locked eyes with her. _They become mindless beasts. Slaves to their thirst. Worse still, if they do not feed, their body fades away but their spirit lives on. Cursed to wander the earth for eternity, unable to satisfy their thirst and unable to die._

A shiver ran down the witches spine.

From the lobby, she heard David speak up in her direction. "Are you waiting for an invitation?" The others chuckled at some inside joke October did not understand. "Or are you just going to watch from there?"

_I'll leave you to it._ The cat padded away with a swish of its tail.  
Right. It was now or never.

October shuffled forward a couple steps further into the lobby. Damn, what she was supposed to say? Sorry I'm not sure if I want to watch you guys drink blood and then go kill someone?

She swallowed nervously. "I'm here."

The boys gathered around David wearing matching grins, brimming with excitement. And yet, beneath it all, she sensed something deeper. Anxiety. They were bracing for the other shoe to drop like an anvil. She couldn't see it in Dwayne's poker face, or the way Paul and Marco eagerly bounced on the balls of their feet. This was more of an intuition. She figured it was best not to mention it.

Thankfully David didn't ask why she took so long. His weird vampire powers probably let him know she had been hiding out in the hallway the whole time, she noted disdainfully. Seated like a king on his throne in his favored wheelchair, he smirked at her.

The glint in his eye was nothing but challenging her as he raised the bottle of wine and handed it to Dwayne. "Bottoms up."

What, was he expecting her to flinch when his stoic brother took a hit of what she knew to be blood? He had another thing coming. But apparently, so did she.

There was no other explanation what happened next. Through the bond, she felt the exact moment the blood took effect in Dwayne. They both shuddered at the same time.

_Fuuuuuuuuck_

Her skin felt hot and it had nothing to do with the way David was studying her with laser like focus.

Dwayne handed the bottle off to Marco and it only got weirder from there.

The curly blond took a deep drink. October felt her brain go fuzzy. Marco handed the bottle to Paul. The floor became unsteady beneath October's feet.

_Did I just get whammied because they just got whammied?_ she wondered.

_We can share thoughts too, just so you know._ Dwayne's voice in her head was a surprise.

She blinked owlishly at the platinum blond as he stood and approached her.

He cut a striking image against the candle light and flickering shadows as he took the bottle from Paul. If this was a game of chicken, she was too slow to get out of his way. She ogles up at him from where he stopped in front of her, maybe a little too closely. Her mind blanked as she watched him tip his head as he drank from the bottle like it was happening in slow motion.

First her gaze went to his gloved hands. He always seemed to be wearing those leather gloves. They looked good on him. Then her eyes dragged towards his mouth, specifically where his lips kissed the bottles mouth. She frantically tore her eyes away to somewhere safe, like his throat. Regret! Instant regret! The pale line of his throat was exposed and begging for attention.

No doubt picking up on her entire train of embarrassing thoughts, David drew the bottle away from his mouth. Red stained his lips. She dazedly realized that he didn't wipe it away.

They locked eyes.

He leaned in. She stretched up on her toes to meet him.

Her eyes fluttered shut and she tasted blood.

It didn't even occur to her that not even a full hour ago she was threatening this man. And now they were kissing! In the background she could hear Dwayne snicker and Marco and Paul whoop. When they finally part, October can't help but mirror him as he licks his lips. .

"Welcome to the tribe little sister," David purred.

The ground steadied itself.

She grinned at him. "Let's go party."

* * *

Michael was late arriving at the motel. He hadn't meant to. Or maybe he did if he was being honest with himself.

A week had passed since he had made arguably the biggest mistake of his life and nearly gotten his entire family killed. So sue him if he kept getting in later and later as time went on. The motel room was already painfully small _without_ the elephant in the room.

Only Star, and to some degree, Ladie, could possibly understand what he was going through. At least, he imagined they did. The truth was he really didn't know them that well. He'd only met them little over a week ago, for crying out loud!

Who could he talk to about what a monumental screw up he was?

No one, that's who.

Not that he was even ready to talk about it. Which is why he spent most of the day on his own, just driving around town, trying to get out of his head. Unfortunately, the universe was keen on reminding him what he was running from.

All it took was one front page headline about the gruesome murder of some nameless drifter to send his mind careening to the memory of David and his brothers tearing apart surf nazi's in a feeding frenzy.

So much for getting out of his head.

He closed his eyes against the murky lights of the parking lot.

_They're dead,_ he reminded himself. It's over.

He opened his eyes and stared up at the second floor of the motel, where his family was waiting. Then he turned and walked away, his hands in his jacket pockets.

One walk around the motel and then he would turn in. No, he was not checking for monsters lurking in the shadows like a child checking under the bed, he assured himself.

He rounded the corner towards the motel's tub sized pool was surrounded by a waist high gate.

The number of people milling about laughing and drinking took him by surprise.

He stopped short to survey the scene from a distance.

A week ago he would have jumped at the opportunity to join in the party. Small clusters of people dotted the poolside, some smoking, some drinking, but all of them appeared be to having a good time. There was only a waist high chain link fence between him and them, and yet to Michael they were a world away.

The idea of a party didn't exactly spell fun anymore. Instead it led to much darker things he would prefer to forget. He was about to continue on his way when something caught his eye.

NO! It can't be!

His pulse skyrocketed as he watched four figures weave through the party goers. Something possessed him to lurch forward to follow them. He tried to be discreet on the extremely likely chance he was mistaken. Out of the corner of his eye he could have sworn he saw the backs of four people enter a room. Completely giving up the pretense of being sneaky, Michael moved to go after them.

A dense cloud of cigarette smoke temporarily blinded him.

He waved it away as though swatting an annoying gnat and blinked away the stinging tears in his eyes.

When he looked for the motel doorway those four figures had disappeared into, he found only a smooth wall.

What the hell? he thought wildly, looking up and down the row of doors. Surely they had gone into one of those other rooms.

"Hey, guy!" someone called in his direction.

Michael distractedly turned around, frustrated that someone would take notice of him now of all times.

"That's not my name," he told the girl staring at him from where she lounged on a fold out pool chair.

She took a drag from a clove cigarette he surmised from the rich aroma. She exhaled the smoke in his direction when he approached. "Didn't catch your name, guy," she replied smoothly.

He waved the smoke away from his face. "That's because I didn't give it."

She studied his face for a moment. Her own features were expressionless as she did so and it made Michael shift nervously. The smirk that suddenly split across her lips did not make him feel any better.

"You look like you've seen a ghost," she declared and held out her clove cigarette for him to take.

He shook his head and declined. "I've just had a long day."

More like a long week.

She raised a brow at him and for a moment he felt a bit guilty for being so withholding. "Sorry, uh…"

The girl cocked her head curiously. He admired her flowing, long dark hair and tried not to compare her to Star. Besides her hair color, she didn't have anything else in common with Star. She wore way too much black to warrant a comparison.

"I didn't catch your name either," he finally said.

She took a drag from her cigarette. Once again she exhaled a plume of smoke in his direction. "My name is October."

He cringed at the acrid stench and took a step back. "Good night, October. Nice meeting you."

"Sweet dreams," she sang airly as he passed her chair.

On the walk back to his family's rooms, he felt a bit silly glancing into the shadows. The monsters under his bed were dead. It would just take time for him to put whatever he felt about them to rest.


	8. Michael Gets Thrown for A Loop

Michael didn't get any rest.

When he finally returned to the motel room, his brother and his grandfather delivered the worst possible news. He couldn't sleep after that. How could he when his grandfather was basically a ticking time bomb a couple feet away in the other bed?

Even though he technically had never met the Widow Johnson, Michael couldn't help but feel that none of this would have happened to his grandfather if he had just been there for his family.

So yeah. He didn't get any rest. His thoughts were too loud and his heart was too heavy.

Then there was the fact that his grandfather forbid them from going after the Widow Johnson. And while he had been out avoiding his family, they had decided to leave town the next day for good measure.

What was that thing that people said about the only place left to go when you're at rock bottom is up? Well those people weren't Michael.

As he packed up the Toyota Land Cruiser with his family's meager belongings, it was hard to ignore the flurry of activity at the other end of the lot.

Near the pool.

Where police were carting out body bags on gurneys from one of the motel rooms.

Michael desperately held onto his poker face. Luckily, his grandfather slept through the commotion in the Fairlane 500 Skyliner. Sam was far too distracted by the scene at the other end of the lot to pick up Michael's nervous energy as he clutched an agitated Nanook's leash. Star and Laddie however, were watching him closely. They radiated worry as Star held the boy close in her arms. He wondered if he should say something reassuring to her.

He didn't know how he should tell them. Or if he should tell them. Afterall, they hadn't been at the party last night. They hadn't seen what might have been four people they knew to be dead. Didn't they have enough problems to deal with? And there was a good chance he was wrong. He had the Lost Boys on his mind the entire day. His brain could have been playing tricks on him. What were the odds that every murder in Santa Carla was committed by vampires?

Maybe Santa Carla was still the murder capital with or without the Lost Boys.

His mom returned to the cars, interrupting his train of thought. She wore a brave face. If you didn't know her very well, you might call the expression on her face carefree, maybe even absent minded. The point is, Michael could see right through it.

"Mom?"

She didn't respond, appearing lost in thought. Michael watched her gently rouse her father awake. Sam was watching her now too, Nanook whining at his feet.

Michael slammed the trunk shut with a loud bang, startling the strained, cheerful expression right off his mother's face.

Sam turned to her, a worried look on his face. "Are we leaving now?" he asked hesitantly.

Michael eyed his mother, equally worried. The same could be said of Star, Laddie, and his grandfather.

"I spoke to an officer when I was checking us out of the rooms," Lucy Emerson began. "They want to speak with everyone who stayed here last night. And they recommended we don't leave town just yet."

Her mouth had dipped into a frown by the end of her announcement.

"Guess we'll be staying at my place then. Or what's left of it," her father quipped. It was a little too obvious that he was attempting to lighten the air. Really, it only served to sour the situation more so than before he said anything.

Michael immediately felt sick to his stomach. For obvious reasons, he did _not_ want to talk to the cops. God, he could just imagine what an awful turn the conversation would take.

_By the way officer, a week ago a gang of vampires tricked me into becoming one of them and then I killed them to save my family. But, and here's the kicker, I think I saw them last night. So if I were you, I'd be on the lookout for some ghosts on motorcycles. Good talk._

Right. That would go over well.

* * *

By the time they rolled up the beaten path that was Grandpa Emerson's driveway, Michael was ready to crawl out of his skin.

He was sure that in any other town the police who asked them if they had seen or heard anything last night would have found his family _very_suspicious. Instead, the Santa Carla police hardly bat an eye at the ragtag group. Their apathy to the entire situation was unmistakable. Michael swore the officer that took his statement thought his name was fucking _Malcolm_ even after he tried to correct him.

Figures.

Before long he was riding behind the family's two cars on his bike, dreading what was ahead of them.

_Back to the scene of the crime,_ he thought dismally.

They had all been in such a rush to distance themselves from the night's horrifying events that they hadn't even put out the fires or got rid of the Lost Boy's bodies. Obviously he wasn't expecting to come home to, well, _a home_. The place was probably smouldering kindling at this point.

There was something else that was bothering the more he thought about it.

Why hadn't the fire department reported the dead body in his grandfather's workshop? Or the skeleton in the bathtub? All the blood in the living room?

He got his answer when his family finally parked in front of the house.

The property looked just as it had the first day he arrived in Santa Carla with his little brother, a dog that tolerated him, and his freshly divorced mom.

**_What the fuck?_**

He cut his engine and stumbled off his bike past his bewildered family members.

The house's front wall that his grandfather had crashed a fucking car through, taking out Max and saving everyone, was completely intact. In fact, the car itself was parked off to the side of the house. Undamaged.

He blinked furiously. Surely, his eyes were fooling him. Where was the fire damage? The house showed no signs of fire damage! Or water damage for that matter, from the fire department that had to have put out the fire.

Blood rushed through his ears and he felt like he might just pass out.

That night had happened? Hadn't it? As much as he wished it hadn't.

He wasn't crazy.

Or maybe he was.

Maybe the mere thought of the Lost Boys had driven him off the deep end.

God, he was too young for this to be happening to him. He hadn't even finished fucking high school yet for Christ's sake!

"MIKE!"

The sound of his name broke through and snapped him out the spiral he was about to throw himself into. He turned to Sam who was standing beside him and staring at him, a glint of fear in his eyes that he was becoming all too familiar with.

Fuck, he had to pull himself together.

He swallowed the lump in his throat, scrambling for the fragments of his unaffected mask.

"I'm not the only who thinks this is… weird. Right?" Michael asked.


	9. When You Can't Sleep

In the early hours of the morning, when the night had finally wound down and all nocturnal creatures retreated to their beds, October scampered down the hallway of the hotel breathless and shaking.

Since the night David's brothers had regained their immortality, October had settled into their routine with little complaint. In fact, she might have taken to their antics with a little too much enthusiasm...

Dawn was fast approaching by the time the Lost Boys and their witch pulled up to Hudson's bluff.

October pressed her face into the back of David's coat and let out a long, tired sigh.

The blond chuckled. "Still awake back there?"

She grumbled as she nuzzled his shoulder.

"Carry me," he heard the muffled request.

The others grinned at the two of them as they parked their respective bikes.

David glanced at October over his shoulder. "You can't make it down the steps by yourself?"

She huffed in irritation. "Can't. 'M too drunk."

"Who knew witches could be such light weights?" Marco teased.

"Rude!" she complained as David helped her off his bike.

"I mean, you guys have the alcohol tolerance of, well …" A look of deep concentration twisted her face up as she searched for the right comparison. It was cute, but they would never say that to her face lest she hex them out of spite.

"A vampire!" she at last exclaimed victoriously, as though just finding the right word was a great triumph.

She swayed dangerously by the time she did find the word.

Dwayne was watching her closely on the off chance she toppled over, unconsciously gravitating towards her.

_We _**_have_**_ been going hard the past couple of nights,_ he thought to his brothers as he eyed October warily.

_Yeah, but she's a witch,_ Paul argued. _She can just brew a potion for her hangover, right?_

"Hey! Are you guys doing that thing where you talk to each other telepathically so I can't hear what you're saying?" October suddenly interrupted loudly.

"We would never!" Marco laughed.

October pouted petulantly, entirely unconvinced.

David rolled his eyes and started down the rickety stairs. _Tomorrow night we'll cut her off early._

"Come on. Sun's comin' up soon," he reminded them aloud.

Without warning, Marco gleefully scooped October into his arms bridal style.

"Nooo... too fast," she groaned weakly, tucking her face into the curly blond's neck. "Might throw up."

Marco grimaced. "Please don't."

She didn't remember much after that, slipping in and out of a shallow slumber as Marco carried her down into the hotel and tucked her into bed.

October did not know what possessed her to run to Paul's room when she could have gone to any of others. The thing was, she hadn't been thinking when she chose. She'd completely given herself over to her flight response and suddenly she found herself creeping into Paul's room as the adrenaline faded into a bone aching exhaustion.

The room was pitch black and she was forced to leave the door open a crack in order to see anything.

She hesitated. It wasn't too late for her to turn back, go to one of the others. Better yet, leave the hotel entirely and sleep outside on the bluff or the stairs.

It took her a few seconds of shameful doubt to find her voice.

"Paul? Are you awake?" She despised how timid she sounded.

She could hear Paul stirring across the room.

"Somethin' wrong?" he asked her groggily as he propped himself up.

Swallowing her embarrassment, she winced at the sour taste in her mouth. "Can I sleep with you tonight?"

_Wait no! I did not mean for it to sound like that!_

She immediately backtracked.

"I think the hotel is haunted," she tried to explain in a slightly stronger tone and before he could respond, she continued, "Don't worry, though, I'll deal with it in the morning."

A beat passed and she was sure he wasn't going to believe her. She crossed her arms in an attempt to hide her trembling hands. She might not have been able to see him clearly in the dark room, but that didn't mean she couldn't feel his eyes fixed clearly on her.

"Did you just say the hotel is haunted?" someone cut in, sleepily.

Okay, that definitely did not sound like Paul.

October could just make out Marko's fluffy curls as he lifted his head in the dim light cast from the hallway wall sconces stretched out next to Paul "Oh. I didn't realize someone else was in here."

"Don't worry about it," a new voice grumbled tiredly next to Marko. She'd recognize that gruff tone anywhere, mostly because of how rare it was she had the pleasure of hearing it.

"Oh, Dwayne's in here too," she realized aloud, blinking rapidly.

He grunted in response, not bothering to sit up to face her.

"Let's circle back to the hotel being haunted," yet another voice interrupted.

October squinted at David in the gloom.

What the heck?

"How the hell are you all fitting on this one bed?" she wondered.

"Well, we used to hang from a pipe like bats when we slept, but since you 'cleaned up this shithole' as you put it, no more exposed pipe," Marco explained, sounding a little more awake.

"Now we kinda just nest together," Paul concluded.

That was actually kind of adorable, she concluded as she filed this information away to examine later.

"Huh. I half thought you guys slept in coffins. Like Dracula."

"Do we look like Dracula to you?" Dwayne asked her snidely.

"DID YOU SAY THE HOTEL IS HAUNTED?" David repeated loudly.

She shuffled her feet nervously, already anticipating how much David was not going to like what she had to say.

"Um, yeah. I think when I fixed the hotel I disturbed the restless spirits who died here in the quake. I'm too tired to deal with them right now or I would get on that ASAP. And I figured there's strength in numbers for the meantime… "

she trailed off.

"We're going to talk about this as soon as the sun sets," David warned her. "You can sleep in here just this once. But if Jacob Marley wakes me up in the middle of the day to tell me I'm going to be visited by three spirits, you're out of here."

"Was that A Christmas Carol reference? Dude, it's fucking July," Paul laughed.

"Go back to sleep, Paul, before I render you unconscious." The blond rocker whined loudly at that. David ignored him. "October, get on the bed already."

The suggestive phrasing of his order did not slip her attention. From the barely stifled snickers she heard, apparently Paul and Marco had caught it as well.

Her mind flew to the kiss she had shared with David. They hadn't spoken about it since it happened, although something had clearly changed between them.

She hesitated taking another step into the room for an entirely different reason.

An irrational part of her brain wanted to close the door behind her because that would keep the ghost from entering. To which the rest of brain told her how dumb that thought was. A ghost is incorporeal, therefore making a closed door inconsequential. She ignored that more rational, sane part of her brain for what little, imagined protection she could muster.

But at the same time, if she closed the door she wouldn't be able to see her hand in front of her face, let alone anything else in the room.

She was so preoccupied with her imagined dilema, that it never even occurred to her that there was probably a spell that would help her. So much for magic.

"Are you just going to sleep on the floor over there?" Paul chuckled in amusement.

She could feel his stare on her and she awkwardly tugged on the hem of her long t-shirt.

"I can't see in the dark, dumbass," she retorted.

She heard Paul snicker and then the mattress shifting.

In the low light, she picked out Paul's shape strutting across the room. And for the second time that night, her flight or fight response flared up. Her lizard brain alerting her of the dangerous creature approaching her and that she should very much be afraid of it.

He stopped in front of her and she wondered if he could hear how her pulse quickened.

She peered up at him wearily as he pushed the door shut behind her, returning the room to darkness.

Blinded, she strained her ears and found she couldn't hear anything. Nothing to indicate that Paul was still in front of her or the others were still on the bed. All she could make out was the sound of her own shuddering breaths. Shit, this was just like that dream where she couldn't see anything and ended with four sets of fangs tearing into her.

Then, a hand brushed her arm.

She flinched at the unexpected touch, letting out an embarrassing squeak.

"It's okay. I've got you," Paul murmured into her ear.

Had he always been standing that close to her?

He took her hand in his and then gave a gentle tug forward.

She clumsily followed his direction and thankfully made it across the room without stumbling into anything. Her thigh hit the edge of the mattress and she realized suddenly that there was no possible way five people were going to fit modestly in this antique bed.

Slipping her hand out of Paul's, ignoring how reluctant she was to do so, and focused on the spell forming in her mind.

"One second," she whispered, and even those small words felt too loud in the quiet room.

She grabbed the edge of the mattress and pulled like she was dragging open a drawer. The pillowly material yielded to the magic and followed her movement as it stretched out like taffy, though she couldn't be sure how wide she needed the mattress to go.

"You just added a good couple extra feet. I think that's enough," Marko informed her helpfully.

She let go of the mattress, her face burning.

And for the third time that morning, she hesitated.

"Climb in, October. The water's fine."

"Yeah, we don't bite."

"Much."

"_Do you love them? Truly love them?"_

There it was again.

That voice from her worst nightmare and the chill that it brought.

It was the kind of cold you experience only when you're soaked to bone and you're standing in the shadows, far from the warmth of the light just out of its reach. And just like the last time she dreamt this awful moment, she heard herself reply.

"_If I lie and say no, will you let me go?"_

Obviously not! She wanted to scream at herself.

"_In your eyes they can do no wrong."_

God damn, this was getting old. All she could do was let this dream play itself out and then she could wake up.

"_So, you won't mind if they just kill you now."_

She totally **never** could have guessed that's what he was going to say just like she couldn't have guessed what she inevitably answered with.

There weren't words for how much she hated this part. The part where she started pleading, begging almost, in the hope of reasoning with this psycho.

"_Please don't do this. Please don't make them do this. Not just for their sake. For yours too. They will never forgive you if you do this to them."_

It frustrated her to no end not knowing who the fuck she was talking to.

She wished more than anything at this point to have a face to put to the voice. Maybe even a name.

"_If you're going to kill me, do it yourself asshole."_

Okay, she was admittedly a little proud of herself for not letting her voice shake. The demand rang clear and strong. She might have been at this stranger's mercy, but she could still hold her ground.

"_But then, they will never learn. This way they won't make the same mistake twice."_

Who did this fucker think he was?

No one held such control over the Lost Boys. That was the first thing she had learned about them. They answered to no one.

"_What exactly was their mistake?"_

This dream made no fucking sense.

"_Loving you."_

Even her subconscious wasn't naive enough to imagine a time when the Lost Boys loved her.

At best, they tolerated her.

At worst, they were inextricably bound to her by way of some shady blood magic.

"_Boys."_

Christ, she couldn't stand this next part.

"_Drain her dry, but make it slow. I don't want a single drop wasted."_

What had she done to these vampires for them to just turn on her like this? For them to choose this sadistic piece of shit over her?

The guy was trying to punish them by killing her. He had said as much.

It wasn't fair.

This was **her** dream. Why couldn't shake this feeling of utter helplessness? Like she was just a passenger along for the ride?

She was a fucking witch, after all, with unfathomable power just waiting to be tapped into.

Why couldn't she save herself in this reoccurring nightmare?

_It's okay…_

_It's okay…_

_It's not your fault…_

_This isn't any of your faults…_

Why couldn't she help herself from forgiving the Lost Boys?

"October! Wake up!" someone hissed at her in a not so quiet whisper.

She blinked blearily through a wet sheen of tears, just barely able to make out Marco's concerned face in the dark. Why, for the love of God did she always have to wake up crying when she had this dream? It was wildly unfair.

Marco watched her hastily swipe at her eyes. "What's not our fault, October?"

Her muscles tensed.

_Deflect! Deflect! Don't let him know about the dream!_ she frantically thought.

He cocked his head curiously, as though he had heard her. "Dream? What dream? What are we talking about?"

She jerked into a sitting up position, her knees pressed into her chest. She steadfastly avoided his eye.

_Shit! They can read my mind! Stop thinking about the dream! Don't let them know!_

The curly blond propped his head up on his hand, frowning. "Know what, October?"

She had half a mind to make a run for it, her damp eyes already searching for the door's outline. The others were fast asleep, Dwayne and David at her right, Marco and Paul on her left. She could probably slip down off the bed without waking the others.

"Hey," Marco said softly. He placed a comforting hand over hers and rubbed soothing circles into the skin.

"You can tell me. I won't judge. Cross my heart. Hope to die… again," he joked.

Maybe she was trying to shift the conversation away from her, or maybe she was genuinely curious, but she found herself commenting, "When I first appeared in the cave with what was left of the others, you were already buried here. That means your brothers probably buried you there. Which must mean you were the first to… die." She drew her lower lip between her teeth and glanced at Marco, worried she had offended him.

His expression was inscrutable, which wasn't necessarily a bad sign but also not especially helpful. She plugged on nonetheless.

"I guess, uh, what I'm asking is… what happened?"

His impish features shifted into something downcast and October immediately felt guilty.

"Sorry. I shouldn't have asked about something that was clearly traumatic. It was probably too soon." She pulled her hand away from his.

He forced a smile. "It's fine. It was bound to come up eventually, right? And you deserve to know."

He looked heavenward and sighed. "Where to start?"

By now he was vaguely aware of how his brothers were half awake and listening in on the conversation. He could feel David poking around in his head, trying to figure out what he was going to tell October that wouldn't give away too much. Marco pushed back a little, willing his new sire to trust him.

"Have you ever met someone that you just hit it off like you've always known each other?"

October's mouth twisted. "Not really. People always tend to keep their distance from me. Probably a witch thing. I dunno."

Marco looked thoughtful. "Those people are idiots. It's not you. It's them."

She smiled. "Okay, now tell me what happened."

He gave a lopsided grin. "One night when we were at the boardwalk we met this guy who had just moved to town with his family. At first, we just wanted to mess with him. Play a little game."

He chewed on his bottom lip as he thought about Michael. If things had been different… But October was watching him intently, waiting for him to continue the story.

"It turned into something else. We got close and for a minute it was like this guy was always meant to be one of us."

His jaw clenched at the stab of pain radiating through bond he shared with the others.

"We were wrong. He turned on us as soon as he realized what we were. What he was turning into. He came to the cave during the day when we were sleeping. He wasn't alone."

Tears filled Octobers eyes and Marco found it impossible to look away.

"I got staked first. I guess that's why I haven't been able to sleep well since coming back. Anyway, when it happened it woke up the others. After you brought me back the others told me what happened next. They told me the guy and his pals got away. As soon as the sun set my brothers went after them all. I don't think I have to tell you it did not go well." The corner of his mouth quirked up.

_Well, fuck. Now I _**_have_**_ to tell him about the dream,_ October thought to herself, resisting the urge to throw her arms around Marco in a hug.

There was no one else she could talk to about this. Even her familiar had been avoiding lately. She couldn't keep all her mixed feelings and numerous questions bottled up forever.

"I can't help but think… we're connected somehow. Me and you, and the others. And I'm not talking about the blood bond. Somehow we were connected before that. I'm talking about whatever brought me here to 1987."

At this point, David and the others were only pretending to be asleep. Marco thought it best not to mention it for fear of October shutting herself off again.

"Time travel has got to take some serious fucking magic. One second I was checking my mail about to go into my apartment and suddenly I was in Santa Carla in 1987! That doesn't just happen accidentally."

Marco agreed.

"I think it's time I try to figure out what brought me to you guys."


	10. Haunting On Hudson's Bluff

October watched Marco drift off, unable to sleep herself.

The room was deadly silent save for the sound of her own gentle breaths and the occasional rustle of fabric as she shifted around. The Lost Boys were entirely still in their death like slumber.

She was beginning to understand just how vulnerable these apex predators were during the daylight hours if even her restless turning couldn't wake them.

Her heavy eyelids urged her to just give in to sleep, and yet every time she closed her eyes she could have sworn she heard a brittle wheezing coming in the hallway, like someone's last shuddering breath set to repeat.

Instead, she preoccupied herself with Marco's story. It only bothered her a little bit about how vague he had been. He hadn't mentioned any names. Not even the name of their murderer. She understood that whoever it was they were special to the Lost Boys. But at the same time, she felt like maybe they were protecting him even if they didn't realize it. And then there was the fact that their killer was out there somewhere, alive and well and probably unaware that the Lost Boys were too.

Eventually, there was going to be a confrontation. There had to be. And when it did, October knew exactly who she was siding with.

Something else was bothering her, though. Marco hadn't outright lied to her, but he was definitely keeping something out of his story. She just didn't know what.

In time, she fell asleep pondering whatever secret it was that the Lost Boys were hiding.

She awoke when someone flicked on a lamp and flooded the room with light. Groaning, she threw an arm over her eyes and rolled away from the offensive light.

"Wakey wakey eggs and bakey!" someone crooned annoyingly in her ear.

October shoved the person away and reluctantly pulled herself into an upright position. Paul beamed at her from where he perched on the other side of the bed. She offered him nothing beyond a deadpan expression before taking in the rest of the room.

Marco was seated by the side table, lacing up his boots and Dwayne was perched on a loveseat with his nose in a book.

Meow!

Her gaze instantly darted to a small black blur as it leapt onto the bed.

"Your familiar has been scratching at the door since dusk," David informed her testily from the open doorway.

_Are you alright?_ the cat whispered into her mind, its big green eyes staring at her with concern.

October had to resist the urge to just reach out and strangle the poor creature.

She curled her lip. "Seriously? You're asking me that _now_? Where have you been!"

The black cat sniffed petulantly. _I did not wish to witness you making a fool of yourself while intoxicated around these delinquents._

Marco perked up, regarding their seemingly one sided conversation with curiosity. "What's it saying?"

Without taking her slitted eyes off the cat, she told him, "It called you a delinquent."

Marco snorted at that.

October refocused on her familiar. "So your excuse is that you couldn't stand the sight of me blowing off a little steam that you had to disappear for several nights. Including last night when I actually needed your help."

The black cat's tail flicked in mild irritation. _I'm here now, aren't I?_

October's temper flared. "Is there a familiar pet store I can return you to? I think I want a new one. A less judgy one who's actually helpful to me."

Her familiar growled low in its throat.

David thought this an excellent time to direct the conversation away from the witches and her familiar's growing feud. "Not that I minded our little slumber party this morning, but what made you think the hotel is haunted?"

October shot him a baleful expression, gathering venom on her tongue. "Gee, I think it was the getting dragged out of my bed by my ankle like in every child's worst nightmare. And then there was the way all the furniture in the room was suddenly thrown around like in fucking Poltergeist. That ghost is so god damned lucky the TV happened to land on the bed and not the floor. Anyway, it was really the words 'Burn the Witch' written in something I think might be blood on the wallpaper that really convinced me."

Silence rang through the room and October swept her gaze around the room, scrutinizing each of the Lost Boys reactions. David appeared skeptical as he crossed his arms over his chest. Dwayne slowly placed his book down, a line between his brows as he fixed his grim stare on her. Marco and Paul shared similar slack jawed expressions.

"That sound's 100% like a ghost, man," Paul declared at last, instantly diffusing the tension in the room.

"So what do we do about it?" David arched a brow.

Marco's face twisted into what October could only call 'cheeky' and she knew instantly something ridiculous was about to come out of his mouth.

"We could try calling the Ghostbusters," he snickered.

October rolled her eyes so hard, a headache began to form. "Okay, you guys keep making jokes. I'm going to the kitchen to get some salt. A lot of salt. All of the salt."

She awkwardly crawled to the edge of the bed and hopped to her feet, making her way purposefully towards the door with her familiar trotting alongside her.

David uncrossed her arms and followed her into the hallway. "What kitchen? We don't have a kitchen," he pointed out.

"The hotel _used_ to have a kitchen. I resurrected that too. Where do you think I've been putting the groceries?"

She tossed a glance over her shoulder to see that they were all following her. She also noted the looks they threw to one another and she guessed correctly that they were having a silent conversation of their own. Probably about how overboard she had gone in resurrecting the once splendid seaside resort.

"What's the salt for?" Paul piped up as she led them down a set of narrow stairs they hadn't noticed before.

"Oh boy, you guys are in for a surprise," she chuckled.

* * *

Paul could sense how much it pained David to let October run the horror show she had inadvertently led them into. Obviously, this was the witch's area of expertise and they had to listen to her. Even their leader could see the logic in that. But that didn't mean it didn't piss him off not having hardly any control over the situation.

Still, even Paul had his doubts about Octobers plan and they only grew as he watched her pour an impossible amount of salt out of a container that was too small to hold all of it onto the lobby's floor.

Finally satisfied with the considerable ring of salt she had made, October stepped inside and stared at them.

The corner of Paul's mouth lifted up as he fought the urge to grin. "So… now what?"

"Well, I'm going to banish the ghost obviously. Now get into the protective circle." She waved the hand clutching the container of salt in a beckoning gesture.

The others looked to David.

"Your protective circle is made of salt," he told her.

October nodded once, also appearing confused and a little exasperated. "Yup. What else would it be made of?"

David raised a skeptical brow. "Have you ever actually evicted a ghost before?" he asked as he stepped into the circle.

The others were quick to follow his lead, Paul and Marco making a show of not disturbing the salt line much to October's annoyance.

"Not going to lie, I didn't know ghosts were real until this morning." She winced at the reluctant admission.

David blinked in obvious disbelief. "And you're telling me you seriously know how to banish one?"

"Just shut up and let me do this," she huffed in irritation.

She stooped down and grabbed a pair of small metal pans.

Marco cocked his head.

"What are the pans…"

October banged the pans noisily together.

"...for."

They watched, completely baffled, as the witch inhaled deeply and then bellowed, "GET THE FUCK OUT OF OUR HOME YOU WISPY MOTHERFUCKER! DOES THIS LOOK LIKE A HOTEL TO YOU?"

_Holy shit,_ Dwayne thought.

The others shared his sentiment.

"October, this IS a hotel." Marko laughed.

She scowled. "That's not the point," she muttered.

Paul was unsure if he should laugh or brace himself.

The lobby dropped several degrees and a supernatural breeze swept through the room, the chill biting their skin and ruffling their hair.

_Something's coming._

October's familiar growled in warning, keen eyes sweeping the lobby for something the rest of them could not see.

Paul shifted closer to David, suddenly wary of the entire situation.

October set the pans down carefully and exchanged them for the container of salt.

The air pressure changed all of a sudden. Paul felt his ears pop.

_Anyone else feel that?_

The lights flickered erratically in the swaying chandelier overhead.

Without realizing it, they all gravitated towards the center of the circle where they stood back to back. Then, a guttural voice carried on the wind three spine chilling words.

**_BURN. THE. WITCH._**

Undeterred by the threat obviously meant for her, October snarled. "Fight me bitch!"

Her familiar meowed in what was likely a warning.

"What are you waiting for?" Paul exclaimed, shifting from foot to foot restlessly. "Banish it!"

October's eyes darted around the lobby, searching. "I'm getting there!"

"Show yourself spirit!"

The wind picked up, turning into a full out gust and the lights flicked so fast they were strobe lights in a club.

And then everything was still. The lights steady.

HISS!

Paul flinched at the sound. He shot a glance at the witch's familiar.

The cat was pointed like the needle of a compass only instead of facing true north, it pointed at a haunting figure emerging from the shadows.

_Holy fuck,_ Paul projected without meaning to.

October steeled her spine and stepped to the edge of the circle.

The cat mewed at the witch.

October tightened her grip on the salt container.

**"Spirit, I compel you to tell us your name."**

Paul shuddered. He could sense the heady magic laced in her words. It was cloying in the heavy air.

The figure jerked its limbs in a way that wasn't quite human.

**_Elizabeth. Eastey._** The name was forcibly dragged out of the spirit's mouth.

A part of Paul didn't want to look too closely at the spirit, but his curious disposition won out.

From the sight of the long gown alone, he knew the spirit was a woman. She had long red hair falling out of an old fashioned updo and it hung in her pallid face. The shadow cast by the unkempt curtain of hair concealed the woman's eyes completely leaving an inky black void to gaze back at them.

October swallowed against the dryness in her throat. **"Elizabeth Eastey I- "**

The spirit ever so slowly lifted an arm and pointed an accusing finger at October.

**_ROSE._**

Paul looked to October in befuddlement. She appeared equally lost. Her cat hissed, its hackles rising.

She tried again. **"Elizabeth Eastey, I banish y- "** Her command broke off into a scream of agony.

Searing, red hot pain pulsed across her flesh and she tipped backwards. David moved quickly and caught her in his arms.

Paul and the rest of his brothers snapped into a rage at the thought the spirit had somehow hurt their witch. They reacted without thinking. Between breaths, they shed their human visages and bared their fangs and flexed their claws.

Before their sire could order them to stay put, Paul, Marco, and Dwayne flew from the circle with a resounding war cry.

Just as suddenly as they attacked, the three of them were thrown aside like ragdolls by an invisible force.

Paul slammed into a wall, effectively knocking the wind _out_ of him and ironically knocking some sense _into_ him. As he rolled onto his side with a groan, he realized what a dumbass he was. Did he seriously just try to Kill a fucking ghost? He could tell the others were thinking the exact same thing from where they were picking themselves up from the other side of the lobby.

"October!" He heard David shout, instantly gathering his attention.

In the circle David was kneeling on the floor with a trembling October cradled in his arms. Her familiar cowered beside them, ears flat against its skull.

With a sickening sense of foreboding, Paul could smell the burning flesh clear across the room and he knew October had been hurt.

**_ROSE!_** the spirit wailed in anguish. **_YOU RUIN EVERYTHING YOU WITCH!_**

Paul pulled himself into a low crouch, bracing against the wall behind him as wind swept through the lobby like a hurricane of supernatural rage.

"You're going to be okay! Just say the damn spell!" David pleaded desperately.

The lights pulsed madly above.

Pinned down, Paul could only watch from the sidelines.

"October please!"

Paul couldn't remember the last time he heard David sound so vulnerable. A sliver of doubt wedged itself into his dead heart. Maybe… maybe everything _wasn't_ going to be okay.

A surge of hope soared through him at the sight of October weakly sitting up, David supporting most of her weight, and fixing her gaze on the spirit.

Despite the fact that she was still shaking like a leaf, her voice rang loud and clear.

"**Elizabeth Eastey..."**

The spirit trembled under the weight of the witch's words.

"**I banish you…"**

**_No!_** the spirit cried and threw herself at the circle, futilely beating her fists on an invisible barrier.

"**From this earthly plane."**

A deafening roar emitted from the spirit who then collapsed into a cloud of smoke.

* * *

October couldn't believe the ghost's eviction from the hotel barely lasted 15 minutes. They still had the rest of the night ahead of them. She wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not. A migraine demanded angrily that she just call it a night and go back to bed. On the other hand, she didn't think she would ever be able to sleep again after what she just saw.

She could still see the spectral image of that woman towering over her. Up close, October saw the way her skull was partially caved in and the long dried blood stain that trailed down her dress. Just thinking about it, October fought the urge to gag.

"Mind if I join you?" Paul asked from behind her. "I've got booze."

She heard the drink swish as Paul shook the bottle enticingly.

She nodded silently, not bothering to turn around to face him. He plopped down on the wooden stairs next to her and handed over the bottle of whiskey. She could feel him staring at her as she unscrewed the bottle and took a long swig.

She swiped a hand over her mouth, grimacing at the harsh burn and bitter taste.

"I know the others sent you out here. Go ahead and ask."

Paul smirked. "Are you sure you're okay?"

She focused on the hazy night sky above. "Yeah. I'm fine." She knew she didn't sound very convincing.

"October, you were hurt really bad. You smelled like a barbeque when you ran out here. What happened in there?"

"Brands," she muttered dispassionately.

Paul blinked. "What?"

"It was like I was branded all over my body. I healed it easy enough, though." She held up her arms and stretched out her legs to show him her unblemished skin. "Just needed some air."

She shivered as the cold air wafted in from the ocean. Paul noted she was still dressed in only a nightshirt and socks. He shrugged out of his coat and draped it across her shoulders without prompting. She accepted the too big coat gratefully, tugging her hair out of the way and over her shoulder when Paul caught sight of something inked on the back of her neck.

"Didn't know you had a tattoo," he remarked.

Her head snapped to the side to look him in the eye.

_"I don't,"_ she told him insistently. "Are you saying I have a tattoo? What does it look like?"

Paul brushed her searching hands away from the back of her neck. She could feel his breath on her skin as he leaned in to look more closely, causing her eyes to flutter shut as her flesh broke out in goosebumps. For a single moment, she felt her troubles melt away in the blond rocker's close proximity.

"Sorta like three triangles that are interconnected. The ones on the ends aren't complete though."

_The brand!_ her brain jumped to the connection. Her mysterious new tattoo must look exactly like the brands that scorched her skin earlier!

"I've been hiding something from you guys since that day at the beach," she blurted out.

Paul cocked his head curiously, leaning back. "Like what?"

"I've been having this recurring nightmare about you guys. And some other man. He was trying to punish all of you by ordering you to kill me. Or something. I'm not really sure."

"That's fucked up," Paul concluded.

October agreed. "That's not even the strange part. The strange part is that I don't think it's just an ordinary nightmare."

"What else could it be?" he wondered.

"No clue. Well, I mean, my familiar alluded that it might be a memory."

Paul smirked. "I think I would remember if someone made us kill you. Which is impossible, by the way. We're pretty stubborn and we have issues with authority."

October shook her head, smiling. "Yeah. I guess that's true."

They sat there together on the stairs in companionable silence for a while longer, sharing the bottle of whiskey and staring out at the ocean. Eventually, the other Lost Boys and her familiar wandered out to join them. The comfortable quiet wouldn't last forever. Not so long as Dwayne gazed at her with a burning intensity.

"She called you Rose," his mused in that deep timbre of his. "Why?"

They were all looking at her now.

The hairs on the back of her neck rose at the mention of the name. For whatever reason, hearing that name coming out of Dwayne's mouth, she felt as though someone had stepped over her grave.

She shrugged the odd sensation off.

"Maybe we knew each other in a past life," she joked with a forced grin.

A beat passed.

Then a revelation hit her like a brick.

**Authors Note**

Here I have included an image of October's tattoo and the meaning behind it.


	11. A Lesson in Tarot

Dwayne couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong.

Strange things were afoot.

If anyone asked him, Dwayne could not care less what sort of witchcraft October was getting up to so long as she continued to magic away any evidence of their presence in Santa Carla.

However, in a word, he would call October's behavior following the incident with Elizabeth Eastey _erratic_.

He hadn't been able to predict what would transpire from Max's plan for a big happy family when their original sire met Lucy Emerson. As David's second in command, he should have been prepared for anything. He should have been able to protect his tribe from anything.

And yet, he had failed them all the same.

October gave him a second chance, though. A second chance to get it right. To keep them all safe. He wasn't about to screw it all up again.

"Guys! Look at this dog I found!" Paul's excited exclamation filtered through Dwayne's brooding.

With October off doing her own thing that night, the boys had resorted to dumping their latest victims (a tourist couple walking their dog) in a dumpster located in shady part of town. He could sense how reluctant David was about sacrificing his lighter to set fire to the two corpses. Meanwhile, Paul and Marko were playing with the dead couples toy sized dog that was yipping and bringing far too much attention to all of them.

"David can we keep it? Make it a hellhound?" Marko queried. A seemingly innocent suggestion from an otherwise impish boy.

David flicked his lighter open and closed, open and closed, with a sardonic expression etched across his face.

"Do you promise to take care of it? Take it for walks and clean up after it?"

Marko beamed. "That's a yes!"

"Radical! I'm going to name him Paul Jr!" Paul declared happily.

The tiny dog was practically vibrating with nervous energy.

Dwayne inhaled deeply, searching for a trace of Octobers scent, trying to get an idea of the direction she had wandered off to.

They had left her at a bar a couple blocks away when she said she wanted to be alone so she could drink in peace without having to share. The excuse was just that. An excuse. She had been clammed up since they rode into town to feed. It was clear she was still processing their ghostly encounter.

His brothers thought it safe to leave well enough alone and gave her her space. Dwayne, on the other hand, decided to check on her after he got his fill. He was shocked to find that she was nowhere to be seen in the dingy dive bar.

"Something's wrong," he grunted. "October's gone."

Having finally surrendered his lighter to the dumpster, allowing a hungry fire to devour their leftovers, David stuffed his hands into his coat pockets. All business.

"Any clue where she went?"

Dwayne shook his head once.

"Okay. We've got a witch in the wind," his sire stated.

Paul and Marko looked up from the whining pomeranian.

"You all know what to do."

_Spread out. Get a bird's eye view. Make sure she hasn't summoned any vengeful ghosts._ The orders floated through their minds.

Dwayne ended up at the boardwalk, a sense of unease hitting him as soon as he set foot under the lights of the amusement rides. Glamour or no glamour, he felt like he was still running the risk that he would be recognized.

Fortunately, he found October pretty quickly.

The witch ambled through the roving crowds, face upturned and bathed on the color lights, an expression of unguarded wonderment. Even from several yards away, Dwayne could see dilated her pupils were. The closer he got the more he was certain that she was on something.

He caught her upper arm in his strong grip, forcing her attention to shift to him.

"Darling Dwayne-o! When did you get here?" she giggled, beaming from ear to ear. "Isn't this place so beautiful? I feel so _good_!"

Dwayne frowned as her attention wavered. "What are you on?"

Her eyes snapped back to him.

She leaned in, her expression nothing short of comically conspiratorial. "Acid. I'm totally tripping on acid! I'm on acid in the 80's!"

His eyes narrowed. The others were going to get a kick out of this, there was no doubt about it.

"Let's get you back to the hotel," he said at last.

"What? Nooo!" she whined loudly.

She tugged her arm in his grasp, pouting. "This is the place to be! Trust me!"

Brow raised, he let her arm go. She immediately spun around and continued on her unsteady stroll. With a put upon sigh, he trailed after her.

"October..."

"The 80's is bananas. Why did crop tops have to do a 180? Marko looks amazing in a crop top. That should be reason enough for dudes keep wearing crop tops in the future," she babbled nonsensically.

Dwayne rolled his eyes. "October where are you going?"

She was heading right for the Frog's comic shop. They got stuck in the flow of foot traffic which he wasn't used to. Without October's glamour to hide him, people usually gave him and his brothers a wide berth. And the closer they got to the comic shop, the less he wanted to draw attention to himself if he had to manhandle October in the opposite direction.

"And another thing, I normally can't stand man-buns on principle, but I am dying to know what you would look like with one. I don't think the others could pull it off as good as you probably can," she continued to ramble on, oblivious to Dwayne's dilemma.

He inwardly cursed as she entered the shop and fell back aways so that he lingered near the entrance. Blending with the crowds.

The two amateur vampire hunters were inside. A couple of seemingly ordinary kids at their summer job, as though nothing was out of the ordinary. As though they hadn't murdered his tribe a couple of weeks ago and turned his entire world upside down.

A growl built in his throat, the menacing sound startling a passerby.

This was not good.

David was going to need to know about this. He wondered if he should reach out to his sire through their mental link. Before he could decide, he spotted them.

Little Laddie and Star.

The hurt he felt was so visceral he wasn't aware he was broadcasting his emotions until he heard David's voice in his head.

_What's going on?_ He didn't wait for Dwayne to collect his thoughts in order to answer. _We're on our way._

With leaden limbs he skulked away to wedge himself between two game booths.

He wasn't so much hiding as he was lurking. At least that's what he told himself. From his vantage point he observed the pair with a calculating gaze. They both looked happy. As if they were never victims to his former sire's machinations. They were just a young woman accompanying a young boy at the boardwalk.

The mere sight of them made him sick. Sick was envy and sick with rage.

Before "That Night", Dwayne hadn't thought much of Star. She was just Max's latest attempt to domesticate his "sons". It was a foolish move on Max's part that ultimately failed. Star was far too concerned with self preservation to even entertain the thought of bonding with a bunch of rowdy vampires.

Laddie's presence was the result of an even more desperate attempt to mold the Lost Boys into Max's preferred roles. Dwayne always felt that turning a kid as young as Laddie was crossing a line. But the gambit had been partially successful. They took Laddie in, made sure he was fed and had a bed to sleep in. They protected him the only way they could by keeping each other in check so their more savage tendencies never spilled over into Laddie's line of sight. And yeah, they made an effort to put off the boy's first kill.

Despite their begrudging efforts, Star resented them because she hadn't known who was really pulling their strings.

Dwayne wondered if Star might not have been so quick to judge if she knew from the beginning that Max had been the one to ruin her life not them as she originally believed.

Star and Laddie disappeared into the comic shop.

Neither of them were the ones to put a stake through Marco's chest, or push Paul into a bathtub of holy water, or even pin David to a pair of antlers. But Star hadn't stopped the Emersons or the Frogs either.

Of course Laddie was innocent on all accounts. Dwayne was actually relieved the kid was healthy and human. He wished the kid a happy future.

Star, on the other hand, could go to hell. Preferably with Michael alongside her.

David, Paul, and Marco arrived about the same time October came shambling out of the shop, loudly voicing her complaints about poor customer service from "toxic fanboys" and how they were lucky she didn't spoil the ending to something called "Infinity War".

Paul, with his Pomeranian wriggling in his arms, and Marco broke off from their group to go corral October away from the shop.

David pivoted to face Dwayne head on. "What happened?"

In lieu of answering, Dwayne jerked his chin in October's direction, signaling them to move their conversation towards the witch. As they moved towards the others, Dwayne filled David in on the state he found October in. When he got to the part including Star and Laddie, David was quick to rush everyone further away from the Frogs comic shop. If Star and Laddie were at the boardwalk, there was a good chance the Emersons were as well.

"October," David purred, interrupting October gushing over the excited Pomeranian. "What are you doing here?"

She blinked oddly at him. First with the left eye, then with the right. "What are _any_ of us doing here, David?"

Marco snorted at the withering expression David pointed at October. The intended effect was lost on her. She actually _giggled_ and that only made Marco laugh harder.

"We're going home. _Now_." Their leader's tone booked no room for argue.

And yet.

"What? No. This is the place to be!" October protested.

_She said that to me too,_ Dwayne projected to David. _I think it means something._

They shared a look.

He could sense David switch tracks. Their leader turned his attention back to October whose own attention had wandered towards the various vendors scattered around the boardwalk.

"Okay October, why is this the place you need to be?" he asked her reluctantly.

"The acid opened my mind. My mind brought me here. For answers. The answers are here somewhere," she explained disjointedly, her gaze searching amongst the vendors.

"Oooh! Witchy!" Paul remarked unhelpfully, scratching Paul Jr. behind the ear.

* * *

Flora Hewitt was a vendor at the Santa Carla boardwalk for a good seven years. She didn't sell cheap jewelry or handmade souvenirs. No, that market was covered by the other dozen or so vendors that she shared the boardwalk with. Instead, she sold her readings.

Tarot card readings that is.

It didn't exactly pay all the bills, but she was retired and after seven years she had carved out a decent niche for herself amongst the other boardwalk vendors.

Did she hate the ridiculous costume she had to wear in order to reap in more customers? Yes.

Did she often spend her nights bored out of her mind listening to teenagers bitch and moan about their superficial love lives? Definitely.

And did she occasionally have to deal with druggies or drunks who really got a kick out of her aforementioned costume? Unfortunately.

It looked like that last one was where her night was heading from the look of the wildeyed youth who was making a beeline for her booth.

Flora braced herself for the oncoming storm.

Before she could so much as get two words out, the young woman seated herself in the metal foldout chair in front of her booth and loudly scooted closer. The loud screech of the chairs metal legs scraping against the wooden planks had Flora cringing. Oh and she brought friends with her, Flora noted with trepidation as she sized up the four suspicious looking fellows standing by the young woman's side. Together they cut an intimidating silhouette (even if one of them was carrying the most adorable dogs she'd ever seen) so much so that every time Flora tried to look at them for too long, her eye line was forced slide away.

She quickly gathered her wits and reached for her deck of cards. "Good evening. How can I help you?" she asked the girl before her.

Normally Flora had an elaborate, albeit cheesy, script she would play into in order to give the customer a good show. Tonight, however, she just wanted to get this reading over as quickly as possible. She did not like the look of these hooligans.

Flora's heart started to beat a little faster when the girl's black painted mouth split into a ghastly smile that showed off her gleaming white teeth. "I would like a reading please," the girl said politely.

Flora struggled to keep eye contact with the girl. Her wide pupils were as dark and consuming as the black eyeliner around her hooded eyes. She didn't blink, either. Her intense gaze was fixed solely on her.

The tarot reader cleared her throat awkwardly and placed the deck of cards in front of the girl. "A reading will cost you fifty bucks."

Without another word, the girl snapped her fingers insistently until one of her strange companions reluctantly dug out some crumpled bills from his pocket and threw them onto the table. Flora was quick to grab the cash.

So far so good. Even if the reading went terribly, at least she got paid.

She smiled sweetly at the girl and told her to shuffle the deck. The girl's nimble fingers cut the deck of tarot cards and skillfully mixed them up with a few fancy maneuvers. Flora got the sense the girl was showing, clearly having done this before.

When she was finally finished, she returned the deck to the table in a neat stack.

"What do you wish to know?" Flora asked her.

The girl leaned over the table, her powerful gaze as steadfast as ever, and told her in a honeyed voice, _"I want to know what my soul wants me to remember."_

Flora blinked at the girl, the wheels in her brain struggling to turn.

"October what the hell are we really doing here?" one of the men snapped at the girl, jolting Flora back into the present.

The girl, October, laughed. "Just go with the flow. I'm sure this will all make sense in the end," she told him vaguely.

Flora observed the girl and her companions with a sidelong glance. All of them were giving off incredibly weird vibes. The girl especially. She was radiating strange energy like she was radioactive or something.

She shook her head, centering herself.

The girl wanted to know what her soul wanted her to remember. Right. She had a basic spread for that.

The tarot reader smiled reassuringly at the girl and took the card from the top of the deck before she flipped it over on the table.

The Wheel of Fortune. Reversed.

Okay. Not a great start. She took the next card from the deck.

Temperance. Reversed.

Flora shot a concerned look at the girl. She flipped over the next card.

The Tower.

Sheesh! In all her years of reading tarot on the boardwalk, Flora couldn't remember the last time she had read such a rotten hand of cards.

The girl's companions had picked up on her disconcertment and clustered closer around their friend. The girl herself leaned back nonchalantly in her chair, patiently awaiting the verdict.

Flora pointed to the first card. " This card represents your past where things were out of your control because of external forces which brought unwelcome changes. Normally this card represents good luck. Good fortune. The cycles of life. But here it is reversed which means bad luck. Disorder."

One of the men cursed. The tarot reader was inclined to agree with the sentiment.

Flora point to the next card in the middle of the spread. "This card represents your present. When it is upright it stands for balance, tranquility, and patience."

The girl nodded in understanding. "But right now it's reversed?"

Flora tried not to grimace. "Yes, that's right. When reversed, it stands for imbalance. Your present self lacks perspective. Indulges in reckless behavior."

The girl's eyes narrowed in warning and suddenly Flora felt as though she had tread on the girl's toes.

"Lastly," Flora hastily pointed to the last card, "this card represents your future."

"At least this one's upright," another of her companions joked.

Flora winced.

"This might be the one card you do want to be reversed," she told him. He frowned.

Her gaze flickered nervously to the girl. "The Tower is a bad omen, signalling chaos is coming for you in your future."

The girl hummed thoughtfully as she studied the cards laid out in front of her. A beat of silence passed. Then another.

The tarot reader was unsure how to continue. Normally at this point the customer would laugh it off, confident that the entire tarot experience was just silly nonsense. The girl and her companions were not her usual customers, however. The lot of them appeared to be taking the reading quite seriously.

"Fun!" the girl suddenly exclaimed giddily, startling Flora.

"That was fun," the girl continued. "Buuuuut, I know a better spread to answer my question."

Flora felt her blood pressure rise as the girl swept the cards back into the deck and started to shuffle them. She tamped down on the little noise of protest that escaped her when one of the girls companions rounded the booth to tower over her. Any mention of another payment died in her throat.

The girl dealt the first card.

The Wheel of Fortune. Reversed.

Flora's eyebrows shot into her hairline. Unless this girl hadn't bothered to actually shuffle the deck of cards, the odds of pulling the same exact card in the same position on the first try was impossible. But Flora had watched her shuffle the cards in the same intricate fashion as the first time.

She drew the next card.

The Lovers.

Flora couldn't help but eye each of her companions.

The girl pulled another card from the deck.

The Magician.

At this point, Flora was beginning to notice that the cards laid out looked… wrong. Flora had owned that deck of cards for as long as she could remember. She knew the images printed on them like the back of her hand. Somehow, the images on the cards the girl drew were different.

Finally, the girl drew her last card.

The Tower. _Again._

The girl hummed thoughtfully again. "The Wheel of Fortune reversed is supposed to be the card to describe in a past life. Sucks to be 'past-me'."

Flora's original card was simply supposed to depict a turning wheel. This new one was tangled in an unruly rose vine, trapping it in one position, keeping it from turning.

The girl giggled and batted her long lashes at her companions. "This card is supposed to describe my purpose in my previous life." A black talon tapped The Lovers card.

Flora sensed her companions amusement at that. She pursed her lips. The new card wasn't even remotely like the one she was familiar with. Instead of two figures (excluding the cherub) there were four, all male. Hovering at the top of the card over the figures, the cherub poised a single rose stem in place of an arrow from its bow. Flora wasn't sure what it meant.

"The Magician is supposed to be the lesson I did not learn in that life. Which, come on, is a no brainer," the girl cackled.

This new card's image made even less sense to tarot reader.

Four lumps on dirt jutted from the ground. Four shallow graves, a dark part of her brain told her. A bleeding hand with black painted fingernails extended from the side of the card over the shallow graves.

Flora shuddered.

"And lastly, the card to tell me how that life is relevant to my current life," the girl explained, her amused smile fading fast as she stroked a finger over The Tower card.

The tiny dog that one of the men carried whimpered suddenly. Gooseflesh broke out across Flora's skin. Unlike the others, this card's image was the closest to its original. It featured the traditional tower, the top of which was broken off as fire sprouted from the fissure. Only, there were four figures standing in that fire, reaching for a fifth figure.

Her eyes _had_ to have been playing tricks on her because it looked like the fifth figure was moving. Completely enraptured by the impossible sight before her, Flora watched as the fifth figure fell from the top of the tower and plummeted to the ground. The entire booth shook abruptly when the body hit the bottom of the card with a resounding **thud** and Flora screamed in horror. Without a second thought, she grabbed her cash box and ran.

* * *

"Do we need to be worried, October?" David demanded as the tarot reader ran away.

She shushed him and reached for another card from the deck.

The Moon. Reversed.

Dwayne raised a questioning brow at the witch. He didn't even have to speak for her to understand what he was asking.

"This is what I really needed to know," she told him and sprang from the metal folding chair, swiping the tarot cards from the table and tucking the deck into an inside pocket of her jacket as an afterthought.

"What did you really need to know?" Paul asked in puzzlement as him and the others followed her down the boardwalk.

She answered him in an offhand, distracted sort of way. "A spell."

"What kind of spell?" David wanted to know.

She led them onto the sandy beach. There were only a few groups of people out there, clustered around roaring bonfires. They quickly surpassed the small crowds as they made their way to the far end of the beach, far from any tourists enjoying the nightlife of the boardwalk.

"October," David crooned her name, trying to gain her attention.

The effort was in vain.

Deciding they had traveled far enough, October stopped. She had led them far away from the lights and sounds of the boardwalk. They were fairly close to where the train crossed over the river; the very same bridge they had initiated Michael on.

She plopped onto the ground and sat facing the sparse brush that hid the river from view of the beach. They joined her on the ground, still unsure of what they were doing there, but curious all the same.

The witch gazed into the brush as though she was waiting for something.

David was about to ask what the hell they were waiting for to happen when he finally got his answer.

A black snake slithered out from the brush, heading straight for October. Paul's dog started barking its head off at the sight of the snake. He swore and grappled with the Pomeranian to keep it from jumping out his arms.

"Uh, October?" Marco questioned, worry in his voice as he eyed the hissing serpent.

"Easy, guys," she murmured to the boys. Her eyes were set on the nearing snake. Its shiny scales glinted in the moonlight like oil. "It's part of the spell. Don't worry."

The Lost Boys were not reassured. They were especially concerned when she reached her hand out to the snake. Sharing panicked looks, they watched helplessly as the serpent traveled up October's arm and coiled around her neck.

Dwayne couldn't keep the question bottled up anymore. "Are you sure you know what you're doing?"

She met his weary gaze. "This is a surefire way to find out what the hell I'm doing here in this time. You have to trust me, okay?"

He clenched his jaw, but nodded his assent anyway.

Everyone jumped when the serpent sank its fangs into her neck with a savage hiss. October's pupils eclipsed her iris' entirely and bled into the white of her eyes until her eyes turned completely black. The snake released from her neck and traveled down her trembling arm, slithering back to where it came from.

The witch collapsed onto her side, out cold.


	12. What the Soul Remembers- Part 1

**July, 1987 Santa Carla**

In a flurry of panic the Lost Boys flew back to the hotel.

David cradled an unconscious October in his arms the entire way to October's room. He had to remind himself several times that she wasn't dead, only sleeping. At least, he was pretty sure she was sleeping.

Actually he had no idea what she had done to herself. His head was spinning with the witches words.

_This is a surefire way to find out what the hell I'm doing here in this time. You have to trust me, okay?_

Yeah. Okay. Easier said than done.

The others nervously paced around as he carefully placed her onto the fourposter. He leaned against one of the posts and aggressively tugged a pack of smokes from his jacket pocket. The movement was reflexive and comforting as he tapped out a stick and lit it.

"David?" Marco's small voice pierced the heavy silence.

David took a long drag and glanced at him.

The impish boy was staring at him with big round, scared eyes. "What do we do now?"

Paul and Dwayne were also looking to him for answers. David wasn't sure how to tell them that he didn't have any.

Another long drag from his cig bought him a few seconds to deliberate. It wasn't enough time. At all.

"She told us to trust her. So now we wait for her to come out of whatever witchy spell she put herself under," he at last declared.

He couldn't believe what their lives had turned into.

Somehow they had landed in a kid's fucked up fairytale where the witch is the one who gets cursed. Did that make David the knight in shining armour who saved the day? Or was he the dumb dragon that gets in the heroes way?

David was so far out of his wheelhouse here.

"What if she never comes out of it?" Dwayne, ever the pragmatist, wanted to know.

"Dude," Paul admonished, shaking his head.

Meanwhile, David didn't even want to consider the thought.

"For now we wait. See what happens."

* * *

**April, 1906 Santa Carla**

Between one step and the next, Rose Eastey found herself standing at long last in Santa Carla's most popular new resort. As soon as Rose entered the lavishly decorated grand foyer of the resort, she breathed a sigh of relief, the tension in her body loosening ever so slightly.

_Finally,_ she thought to herself in exasperation.

The entire journey had been nothing short of a nightmare as her family was delayed a number of times throughout the day, costing them several hours they could have reached their destination sooner.

Night had already fallen some time ago and the foyer was blessedly quiet as her mother and her new step-father checked in at the front desk. Meanwhile, she lingered by the pile of luggage by the hotel's entrance wondering how long it would be before she could sink into a comfortable bed.

"Can I carry that for you?" someone asked her, startling her.

Rose blinked rapidly as she turned to face a bellhop gesturing to the small trunk at her feet. He beamed at her, appearing far more energetic in the late hour than she was feeling at the moment.

She cleared her throat. "Yes, thank you."

He and another bellhop proceeded to load up her family's luggage onto a cart as she stood awkwardly to the side, simply observing them, too tired to bother with idle chat. They were both young, blond, and had blue eyes. The one who had spoken to her had fluffy curls and Romanesque features. The other was taller and possessed the sharpest jawline Rose had ever seen. All and all they both undeniably handsome.

She knew she was staring but the boys didn't seem to mind. If she knew any better, she'd say they were preening under her flagrant attention.

"If you'll follow us we'll show you to your room, Miss Carrington," the taller one said to her with a loose grin.

"That's Miss Eastey, actually," she politely corrected him as they started down a corridor.

The two bellhops shared a look of confusion.

"Mr. Carrington is my _step_-father," she explained.

Speak of the devil.

"Hopefully we didn't miss tonight's dinner," her step father cut in from behind the group.

The taller bellhop shook his head as he pushed their cart of luggage down a hallway. "As a matter of fact, you're just in time. Dinner is in half an hour, Mr. Carrington."

"At least something went right today, though I hardly have any time to change," Rose's mother remarked cynically.

Rose said nothing. Her mother and her step father entered their room first, the curly haired bellhop unloading their trunks for them. The taller of the two bellhops unlocked the room next door. He claimed her trunk from the cart and carried it into her room. She followed him inside.

Once he set her trunk by the beds side, he straightened up, his mouth curving into an attractive smile. "My name is Paul. If there's _anything_you need, I'm one ring away." From the way his eyes gleamed with wanting, Rose easily picked up the double meaning.

Like most men, he probably just took one look at her bright red hair and _assumed_ things about her character.

Normally she would be offended a bellhop would have the gall to behave so inappropriately in front of a guest. But that was before the wedding. The most recent one, anyway. Before her mother dragged her along on her new husband's business trip to the middle of nowhere without giving her much of a choice.

The corner of her mouth quirked up. "I might just take you up on that Paul," she told him, feeling a rush of rebellion flow through her.

He looked as pleased as the cat who got the canary. "Have a good evening, Miss Eastey."

The smile that pulled at her lips was positively wicked. "I'm looking forward to it."

He smirked at her, his avid gaze not so subtly sweeping along her figure as he made his way to the door.

* * *

**July, 1987 Santa Carla**

The boys took turns watching over October throughout the night.

Dwayne volunteered to take the first watch and no one argued with him.

To distract them all from the unsettling situation, David had taken the wine bottle containing his blood and poured some into a dish for Paul's dog, undisputedly named Paul Jr., to drink from.

The addition of a hellhound to their tribe generated little excitement from the usually rowdy blond rocker.

Marco was equally unenthused. David found the boy smoking a joint in the lobby. He was perched on top of the front desk facing the large poster of Jim Morrison, his back to the rest of the room.

David approached him silently.

Marco appeared deep in thought as he took a hit from the joint. He was looking at the poster without really looking at it. David could have taken a peek into his head to see what he was thinking so hard about but he refrained. He could guess.

The curly haired blond spoke up all on his own. "If her spells works and she figures out why she was sent back in time, do you think October will return to 2018?"

That was a good question. One David hadn't really put much thought into since the witch came into their lives.

He took the joint when Marco offered it to him. He took a hit and passed it back. "Maybe," he offered vaguely in return.

Marco gnawed absently on his fingerless glove. "I don't want her to go," he admitted.

_I don't either,_ David thought.

* * *

**April, 1906 Santa Carla**

Rose was hungry and exhausted from the arduous journey and she just wanted to crawl into bed. Maybe even ask that handsome bellhop to join her.

She had been biting her tongue all day, bottling up her frustration and anger to the point she felt like she might burst with spiteful venom. She didn't even get through the second course of dinner before she found herself at the hotel bar. In a world where she was a slightly better person she would feel a little guilty about embarrassing her mother in front of her new husband's business associates. In reality, she was rather proud of the scene she caused.

She flagged down one of the bartenders. He had slick backed blond hair that was so pale it was almost glowing. When she caught his eyes, his angelic blue eyes, she swallowed nervously.

He set down the glass he had been drying and turned fully towards her.

"What will it be?" he asked amusedly though she didn't understand why.

"I'll have your top shelf whiskey. And," she attempted her most winning smile, "you can charge that to my room."

When he asked which room, she listed her mother's. His eyes narrowed only slightly as he assessed her face like he knew wasn't being entirely honest. Her smile faltered.

He prepared her drink regardless and she gratefully accepted the glass when he offered it to her.

She downed the drink in one gulp, relishing the burn. It made her feel a little better after the day she had. But then the thought of the next day loomed over her like a dark cloud.

"I'll have another," she told the blond bartender who was moving to pour more whiskey into her glass.

"What's got you down?" he asked her casually as he set the bottle on the bar and leaned his elbows against it.

_Are all the employee's here so nosey?_ she thought to herself.

She had half a mind to tell him to know his place and leave her alone to drink in solitude. And yet, she was desperate for a sympathetic ear. Or a punching bag she could verbally abuse.

She would settle for a sympathetic ear.

"If you must know, my mother plans to arrange a marriage for me without any regard for what I want," she told him bluntly, glaring into her glass.

"What _do_ you want, if you don't mind my asking?"

She glanced at him, and suddenly she noticed the hard edges to his supposedly clean cut look. There was something rough and dangerous about this guy that she couldn't quite put to a name. Whatever it was, it intrigued her.

"You know," she paused to take another long drink. She set the empty glass on the bar top with a sharp clink. Her eyes flickered back up to the blond's. "No one has asked me in a really long time."

He shook his head. "That's a real shame."

She studied the bartender as he filled her cup again.

_Is a requirement to be so damn attractive to work here or something?_ she wondered.

The other bartender, who was just as frustratingly handsome with his captivating brown eyes and tousled brown hair, was staring at them in what Rose took as disapprovement but said nothing as he tended to another customer.

Her face heated from embarrassment and from the whiskey.

"Well?"

She blinked at the blond bartender in confusion.

He raised a brow and smirked. "What _do_ you want?"

_...You,_ an impulsive voice whispered with longing in the dark depths of her mind.

The blond's smirk grew wider.

She sipped from her glass, scrambling for an acceptable answer.

She knew she was well on her way to being drunk. At least, her liquid courage was catching up to her as well. Or maybe the whiskey had loosened her tongue. She wasn't sure. Either way, she was able to meet the blond's eyes dead on.

"I want to make my own decisions for once," she told him. "And to have another drink!"

He laughed at that and poured her another glass.

The rest of the evening went pretty much the same.

They talked.

She told him her name.

He told her his. It was David.

And she drank.

She drank _a lot_ until she was positively dizzy.

And she felt better than she had in awhile.

* * *

**July, 1987 Santa Carla**

Dawn approaches whether or not Paul wants it to.

He takes the day shift watching over October mostly because even though he will be out cold, Paul Jr. can at least guard them both while he's out of commission. The little Pomeranian made himself comfortable by October's bedroom door while Paul curled up next to October herself, interlocking their fingers while he slept.

As the sun rose outside, sleep dragged him into unconsciousness, and like always he was powerless to fight the pull.

* * *

**April, 1906 Santa Carla**

"Paul!" someone drunkenly called to him as soon as he and Marco entered the resort bar area.

"That's Paul! I met him earlier! Do you know him? He's great!" said drunk person raved to the bartender.

The look on Marco's face was full on teasing as he wagged his eyebrows. Paul nudged his shoulder with a scoff.

He recognized Rose Eastey halfway to the bar and she was certainly in good spirits from what he could surmise from the empty bottle of whiskey beside her half full glass.

The bartender, Paul thought his name was David, greeted Marco. The other bartender he couldn't quite remember the name of, he was pretty sure it started with a D, nodded at Marco before returning his attention to another customer.

Rose Eastey was practically spilling out of her seat as she gestured wildly for him to join her at the bar. He grinned as he sidled up beside the petite redhead.

Dear god, she was _drunk._ Face flushed, speech slurring, a moment away from passing out _drunk_.

"You know her?" David, the bartender he did remember the name of, asked him pointedly.

His sometimes co-worker Marco introduced him to the two bartenders a while back but their interactions had been brief since then. Paul hardly ever worked the night shift, unlike Marco and his friends who only worked the graveyard shift exclusively. And he _never_ saw them during the day on their own time.

"Yeah I helped her with her bags before the dinner service."

"Take me back to my room!" Rose suddenly demanded, stumbling to her feet. "I don't remember where it is!"

Paul scrambled to catch her when she nearly tipped over. "You're lucky my shift just ended," he told her playfully.

"Sweet dreams Rose. Try to sleep it off," David chuckled.

"G'Night Davie," she giggled in reply.

Marco snorted into the glass of whiskey he had stolen from the redhead as he took a sip. David shot him a glare.

By the time Paul and Rose arrived at her room, he was practically dragging her limp body, huffing and puffing great gulps of air. It was like pushing an entire cart of luggage by himself uphill several miles trying to corral this drunken girl back to the suite.

This was _not_ how he imagined his evening unfolding when he offered his "services" earlier.

He helped her unlock the door and carried her to the bed when she all but collapsed in his arms as soon as they crossed the threshold into her room.

He grabbed a waste basket and set it beside the bed. Satisfied, he made to leave the suite when he heard Rose mumble something into her pillow.

A grin pulled at his lips. He leaned closer to hear her. "What was that?"

"Stay," she told him quietly, face peeking out from the mound of pillows. "'Til I fall asleep. Please?"

He knew he would have to be a monster to just up and leave the girl when she asked him to stay so sweetly, even though he was deeply uncomfortable in this girl's room while she was in such a vulnerable state. He couldn't deny the girl's request. Not when she was looking at him the way she was. Face half hidden in the fabric of the hotel's pillows and tears brimming in her bloodshot eyes. Lower lip quivering as she barely contained her quiet sobs.

Damn.

He didn't know what to do around a girl who was crying.

So, he did the only thing he knew he _could_ do and sat down on the floor with his back against the feather down mattress.

He offered his hand and she took it and _squeezed_ so damn hard before lacing her fingers through his as she cried into her pillow.

* * *

**July, 1987 Santa Carla**

"Come back to us October," Marco pleaded as he curled up beside her on the bed during his watch. "I need you. _We_ need you."


	13. What the Soul Remembers- Part 2

**April, 1906 Santa Carla**

Dinner was the last place Rose wanted to be. Though, to be clear, she didn't mind having dinner. _It was that she didn't want to be having dinner with her mother and her husband plus all of his business associates._

She tried to clear her plate as fast as she could so she could excuse herself before the next course was rolled out. In her haste she probably earned a few bewildered glances from the stuffy men and women seated around the table. As soon as introductions went around the table, she had immediately stopped paying attention to anyone. Rose could care less what kind of image she presented to these strangers.

"Rose, darling, try to at least pace yourself," her mother chided her in that sickly sweet way of hers that set Rose's teeth on edge.

"Yes mother," she quietly fumed.

Heavens, she could not wait until she could take off her uncomfortable dress and take down her hair. The first course was nearing its end and she was not planning on sticking around for the second. She would deal with her mother's ire about making poor first impressions in the morning.

Bits of conversation filtered in and out of her ears.

"-over there is the owner of this fine hotel."

"I've heard good things about the man."

"Yes I've met him once or twice-"

"Let's go pay him a compliment on this grand hotel! I'll be right back, dear."

Rose eyed Daniel Carrington as he stepped away from the table, leaving her and her mother behind. Then, she turned her gaze to her mother. The older woman's doting smile fell as soon as her husband turned away from the table.

"He's quite the catch isn't he, Elizabeth?" The words had biting edge to them that made her mother's head snap in her direction.

"Don't call me that. _I'm your mother_, Rose. Let's not get into it now. I don't have the energy for a verbal spar with you tonight."

Well that was a pity because she had another thing coming.

"I only mean that this isn't the honeymoon you had in mind, is it?" Her tone was cloyingly sweet.

Elizabeth waved her daughter's words off. "Daniel is a very busy man, Rose. And anyway, this is my third marriage. I don't need another honeymoon."

Rose wasn't getting the reaction she wanted. She wanted a _fight_. She wanted to make a scene. For things to get _ugly_.

"Daniel only invited you on his business trip to show off his pretty new wife," Rose argued. "But he's not even doing that is he? You're over here. And he's over there. What's the rest of your marriage going to look like, _Elizabeth_?"

The look on her mother's face was withering.

"That's enough, young woman!" she hissed under her breath, steam practically pouring out of her ears. "The only reason you're even here right now is because I won't have my daughter leeching off her mother because she can't find a husband of her own!"

"That's all you care about, isn't? _Money_," Rose sneered.

Her mother gave her a droll look. "And _you_ don't care about anything at all. Certainly not about what people say about you. Otherwise you might have noticed other guests gossiping about how you've been whoring yourself out to the help."

Incensed, Rose shoved away from the table, clambering to her feet. The sudden movement caused a few peoples glasses to tip over and spill. A distressed sound escaped her mother's lips at the mess.

Rose got into her mother's face. "Who I spend my time with is not anyone's god damned business!"

Vibrating with rage, she stormed out of the dining hall amidst a few curious glances from a few tables over.

* * *

**July, 1987 Santa Carla**

The next night, David lingered outside the door to October's room.

He debated for a short moment on whether or not he should go inside and sit with her. Paul was already inside with her. The rocker was humming some new song from the radio.

David had yet to take his watch in the two nights that October had cast that spell on herself.

For reasons he didn't fully understand, he just couldn't bring himself to shut himself in a quiet room with October's lifeless body. The walls of the hotel already felt like they were closing in on him. He needed to get out. Feel the icy wind cutting into his skin under the light of the moon.

_I'm going hunting. Don't wait up for me,_ he mentally sent to the others.

He didn't bother with his bike. He simply took to the air and kept going. Before he knew it, he was standing on a familiar patch of land on the edge of town.

The head vampire stood there silently with his feet on the ground, staring at the back of the only house around for miles. For fear of giving his presence away, he resisted the urge to light up a cigarette. Finally, he thought, he could be alone with his thoughts.

Meow!

The sound stirred David from the distant place his thoughts had strayed to.

He raised a brow at October's familiar. Idly, he wondered if the witch was ever going to name the creature.

"Keeping an eye on me while the witch is out of commission, are you? Making sure I don't do anything stupid?"

The way the cat was staring unblinkingly at him made him think it already thought he was doing something stupid. David was tempted to tell the beast to fuck off except he knew eventually it would get back to October.

"Yeah? Well I'm not," he sneered.

"Then what are you doing out here?"

David turned to see Dwayne stalking towards him through the barren field.

He didn't answer his second in command. What could he say? Even he didn't fully understand why he had flown all the way out to the edge of the Emerson property.

"Marco and Paul with October?" he deflected.

"You know they are." Obviously Dwayne would never leave October unprotected when she was most vulnerable.

"Good," David murmured, sounding somewhat distracted.

"Are you going to answer the question, or not?"

David drew his lower lip between his teeth and threw a furtive glance at Dwayne.

He shrugged. "My answer is I don't have an answer."

Dwayne crossed his arms, appearing unconvinced. "So you just randomly decided to stalk the Emerson house."

"What do you want me to say Dwayne?"

"You don't have to say anything. I know you're scared and you're looking for someone to blame. Michael Emerson is as good as it gets."

David said nothing. Dwayne was obviously right. About everything.

"We get it, you know. You fell hard for him." David cast him a look of warning to take his words back but Dwayne continued nonetheless. "We all did. But that doesn't change what he did."

David's brows drew together.

"If things had been different…" David found himself saying.

"But they aren't," Dwayne reminded him softly.

David wanted to protest if things _had_ been different… actually he wasn't sure what would have changed.

"This all started with him. I hadn't lost anyone I give a shit about since I turned. Then Michael Emerson comes along and I end up losing fucking _everyone I ever cared about in one go_." His jaw tightened and his eyes grew misty.

"Hey." Dwayne rested a grounding hand on his shoulder. "You didn't lose us. We're still here. Thanks to October."

The mere thought of October brought forth fathomless gratitude. Fuck. He owed her _everything_. How the hell was he supposed to convey just how much he needed her?

Her familiar rubbed its side against Dwayne's leg, purring.

David's mouth twitched.

Dwayne shook his head at the cat before addressing David. "When she wakes up, you should ask her to stay with us. Or if she's hellbent on going back to her own time… maybe we can go with her."

"Wouldn't that be something," David chuckled.

For a while they stood there, staring at the darkened Emerson house in the distance, contemplating the future.

Dwayne glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. "We should talk about it."

David raised a brow.

"Max," Dwayne clarified. "Don't be like him, man."

"I'm not sure what you mean."

Dwayne's mouth set in a hard line. "I mean don't keep shit from us. Whatever is going through your head, let us in on it. Max always played his cards close to the chest and he kept things from us. We hated him for that, remember?"

"He had his reasons."

"You mean he had his secrets," Dwayne argued. "Ever since we came back I've noticed there are gaps in my memory where there shouldn't be. It's the same for Paul and Marco. Max took our memories. Why would he do that?"

"Why would he do anything?" David sounded tired. "All he ever did was try to control us."

Meow!

They looked to see Octobers cat appear at their feet. The black feline meowed once again and this time it sounded like a warning. Both men cast a wary gaze at their surroundings, dreading that they had caught the Emersons attention after all.

Only, it was not an Emerson or any of their allies.

Appearing as if out of nowhere was an older woman.

_It's the Widow Johnson,_ Dwayne whispered to his sire through his mind.

The Widow Johnson was a severe looking woman. Every inch of her was done up immaculately. From her coiffed silver hair, spotless tweed blazer, to her stiff white shirt tucked into the slim waist of her pressed slacks. Her keen eyes sized them up and from the way her face screwed up it seemed whatever she saw in them, she found them wanting and David decided she looked like the world's most terrifying librarian.

He quickly racked his brain for everything Max had ever told him about this woman. She was old. Older than Max had been. That meant she was stronger than him by a mile and he should probably do his best to avoid a confrontation with the woman.

"Just what do you think you're doing in my territory?"

That was news to David and Dwayne.

"_Your_ territory?"

In all the years Max's tribe had shared Santa Carla with the Widow Johnson, she had never enforced her claim to her designated territory. The Lost Boys hunted wherever and whoever they so pleased. Plus, there was the glaring fact that she hadn't interfered when the Lost Boys were hunting Michael Emerson on her terf.

So it was no wonder David and Dwayne found it strange that she was making an appearance now of all times.

The widow pinned them under a critical eye. "George Emerson is one of _mine_ now. That makes his family also mine. As is this land. I'll ask again… _what are you doing in my territory?_"

Dave and Dwayne shuddered under the power in the widow's voice and they were forcefully reminded that they were in the presence of a very old and formidable vampire.

Reeling, Dwayne cast a concerned glance at his sire. _Grandpa Emerson is a vampire?_

Recovering from his surprise, David faked a lazy smile. "Can't a couple of guys just enjoy the countryside under the moonlight?"

The Widow narrowed her eyes at the blond. "Not this countryside."

David's smile fell. He may have been standing in an open field, but he sensed that he was slowing being backed into a corner.

"We don't want any trouble," he told her seriously.

The air grew tense as the widow regarded him disdainfully. "Then tell me why you really came here."

It was the same question Dwayne had asked him and yet David was no closer to an answer. Every time he tried to reach for one, Michael's name would flash through his head with the blinding intensity of a strobe light. He didn't want to think about what that meant.

It occurred to him that he could make the argument that Star and Laddie weren't part of the Emerson family and that the Lost Boys might still have claim over them. But then how would explain the former vampires without revealing their previous sire's demise as well as their trespass onto the Widow's territory?

"We were just leaving," he told her instead.

They backed away a couple of steps, preparing to take to the air when the widow stopped them with a single command, "**Wait.**"

Their bodies locked up and they froze where they stood.

Dwayne's drew his lips back in a snarl and struggled against the invisible hold. David's eyes flashed yellow and he braced himself for a fight. And then he realized the widow wasn't even looking at them.

Her eyes were focused on October's familiar.

Fuck. He had forgotten about the mangy cat. Suddenly, he was overcome with the need to protect October from the widow. No matter what, this woman could not find out about their witch. Especially not when she was currently vulnerable.

"Is that... your cat?" The widow asked lowly, her voice sounding strangled at the end of the question. Her expression was inscrutable.

The feline in question backed away, ears flat and hackles raised.

"I'm more of a dog person," David replied snidely.

The creature hissed at him and darted into the shadows, taking the heaviness of the moment with it.

After a charged second, the widow finally turned to face them. Suddenly they could move again.

"The both of you should run along. You're not welcome here," she widow told them plainly.

Relieved, David rolled his shoulders and grinned though it was strained.

"Our reputation must precede us Dwayne." He shot a meaningful look at his second in command. "Let's get out of here."

They could both feel the widow's harsh glare for miles as they flew back to Hudson's bluff.

* * *

**April, 1906 Santa Carla**

As much as Rose could really use a free drink…

A lot of free drinks...

ALL of the free drinks…

She was relieved her friends had agreed to meet somewhere not on hotel grounds during their collective night off. Ever since she had met David she had probably been taking advantage of the fact that he always served her free drinks to an unhealthy degree. Not to mention, it would do her some good to get away from her mother's baleful eyes following as she left for the hotel bar.

"It's just this way I think," Paul said, calling back her attention.

If it weren't for Paul leading the way and the bonfire she spotted glowing in the distance, she probably would not have found the secluded spot the boys had claimed on the beach.

"Talk about 'off the beaten path'," she grumbled to herself as she trudged across the rocky terrain lit only by the light of the moon, making Paul chuckle.

Her mother would have a fit at the sight of her dress' frayed hemline and her muddy shoes.

David, Dwayne, and Marco were seated on large pieces of driftwood around the fire with a bottle of absinthe as they chatted. Paul bounded excitedly over to his coworkers, settling into place beside them like a missing puzzle piece fitting into the last space. Rose remembered how shocked she had been when she learned Paul had only just met the other boys. She had originally thought them all long time friends.

Lingering outside the light of the fire, she took a moment to study the boys in their everyday attire as she was so used to seeing them dressed in their hotel uniforms. They were all criminally handsome of course.

"About time you showed up. Dwayne was thinking about sending a search party," Marco teased upon her approach.

Rose huffed in annoyance as she approached the circle of friends. "If you hadn't picked the middle of nowhere, we might not have gotten so easily lost."

David stood, chuckling, and took her hand to lead her over to a seat on the driftwood. "Think of it like this Rosie; now that you know where our little spot is you won't get lost next time."

Next time…

Rose wasn't so certain about the next time she would be able to sneak away before her family finally checked out of the resort and traveled home. So she forced a smile and nodded in agreement.

Sensing her melancholy, Dwayne passed her the bottle of absinthe like he was extending an olive branch.

"No thank you." She shook her head.

If she had trouble finding her way to the beach, it would be hell returning to the resort without a clear head.

Dwayne shrugged and took a swig from the bottle nonetheless.

"So what's on your mind tonight Rosie?" David asked her in what she thought of as his 'bartender' voice.

"I think you can guess," she muttered dryly.

"Elizabeth?" Marco wondered, sounding sympathetic.

Rose looked away and nodded.

She missed how the boys shared a quick, meaningful look.

A funny thought crossed her mind.

"She's ordered me to stay away from you all." She snorted at the thought.

Paul laughed, finding the thought equally ridiculous. "That seemed to have worked out."

"Apparently other guests have been spreading some rather unsavory rumors about me because of how much time I've been spending with you all. Without a chaperone, no less. At least, that's what mother said." She rolled her eyes. "She can try to control me as much as she wants. She doesn't own me. Besides, what's she going to do to me anyway? I don't have anything to lose. She made sure of that."

Dwayne scowled. "I've heard some rather 'unsavory' rumors about your mother too. That's just what people do in places like here."

That piqued her attention.

"Do tell."

Dwayne handed the bottle of absinthe to Paul and leaned forward with his forearms on his knees as he faced Rose.

"She's on her third marriage, isn't she? And she's been made twice a widow."

Rose blinked, dumbfounded. "Dwayne what are you saying?"

He inclined his head. "It's been suggested by more than one person that she poisoned her last husband and stole his fortune."

Her breath caught in her throat as she humored the idea that her own mother was capable of something so evil. Sure, Elizabeth's second late husband had hardly measured up to Rose's beloved late father. But he had died of a heart attack. He hadn't been _murdered_.

She curled her lip in disgust. "And mother says I keep poor company. Meanwhile her own peers are spouting such horrid things behind her back."

"I don't know Rosie. I'd be careful if I were you," David told her as he curled an arm around her waist.

She couldn't tell if he was being serious or making a joke as she nestled into his side.

"Are you sure you don't want that drink?" Marco asked her, taking the bottle of absinthe from Paul.

She grimaced. "I tried absinthe once. Never again."

David was watching her closely, the flickering light of the fire casting strange shadows across his face. "How about something else, then?"

He glanced at Marco as a silent command passed from one to the other.

Marco set aside the absinthe before he plucked another bottle from the shadows beyond the fire. He delicately held in his hands a jewel encrusted wine bottle she recognized from the very top shelf of the hotel bar. She had assumed it had been decoration.

The smaller boy handed the bottle to David.

"Aren't you going to get into trouble for taking that from the hotel?" she asked in amusement.

"That's from the hotel? Excellent!" Paul cackled, clapping his hands together once in anticipation.

"We won't tell if you don't." David winked at Rose.

Her face felt hot and it wasn't from the warmth of the fire.

"You know Rosie, you don't have to live under Elizabeth's thumb if you don't want to. You could run away with us." He smirked roguishly.

A blush bloomed across Rose's cheeks. "You shouldn't joke around like that."

"It's hardly a joke, Rosie. You could be one of us. Both of you," David added, nodding at Paul.

"'One of us'," Rose repeated dumbly, glancing around the bonfire at each boy until she landed on Paul.

The animated boy was uncharacteristically still.

"Drink this and you could sleep all day, party all night. You'll never grow old. You'll never die. Doesn't that sound a lot better than having to live your life at the whim of your tyrannical mother, Rose? Or getting stuck in a dead end job that will suck the heart and soul out of your life, Paul?"

Rose fidgeted in David's hold. "Surely you're making a joke.."

Only, she wasn't so sure anymore.

David, Marco, and Dwayne grinned wolfishly at her but there was something more to the sharp gleam of their teeth. Something that made her feel like there was something she was the last to know about.

Her eyes darted away from theirs until her gaze landed on Dwayne's coat collar. That's when she noticed the dried specks of blood. She looked at Marco and found similar stains on the exposed skin of his throat. Her eyes widened fractionally and she forced them to look into the fire. Amazed she hadn't noticed earlier, but strewn amongst the kindling were scorched human bones.

She inhaled sharply, her eyes flashing to David's.

He chuckled.

"Come on, Rosie. I've seen you reading Bram Stoker's _Dracula_. I think you can guess where this is going."

They all watched intently as David dipped his head back and took a sip. A shudder ran through his body and he had to jerk to the bottle away from his lips as though the temptation to keep drinking was a compelling force. His eyes burned with something she couldn't name as he stared at her.

"Be one of us," he told her again, his grip loose around the neck of the bottle as he offered it to her. "Ladies first."

Rose swallowed against the lump in her throat. She glanced at Paul, trying to gage his reaction. His posture was relaxed, but his eyes blazed with hunger for this life of freedom David promised them if they drank. She didn't need to ask him if he wanted that life. Paul nodded at her.

She hesitantly accepted the bottle from David.

"Cheers," she murmured, bringing the mouth of the bottle to her lips.

She took a small sip.

The skin on the back of her neck prickled with heat. That heat turned into a searing, red hot pain that pulsed across her flesh. She choked on the wine as an agonized scream clawed its way up her throat.

Marco snatched the bottle from her slipping grasp. David took her in his arms as she clawed at the back of her neck. Her eyes watered from the repugnant stench of burning flesh.

She could hear the boys frantic voices through the pounding of her heart roaring in her ears.

_What's happening? What did you do to her?_

_Damn!_

_There's something on the back of her neck._

_It looks like a brand..._

She plunged into unconsciousness.


	14. What the Soul Remembers- Part 3

**July, 1987 Santa Carla**

A dark cloud hung over the Emerson household, blocking the light of the sun and casting a shadow over the house, promising a storm in the near future.

Tension reigned throughout the house as days passed that George Emerson grew steadily less human.

The Emerson family, plus one Star, had to answer some hard questions and decide which hard decisions to make. They finally sat down to have that conversation the day after George Emerson sequestered himself in his taxidermy workshop. He refused to leave for anything.

Michael stared vacantly at the closed sliding doors to the workshop from across the house where the rest of his family were sitting in the kitchen. He was trying in vain to tune out the annoying tenor of Edgar Frog's voice. He mentally cursed Sam for inviting the two Frog brothers.

"I say we stake him now. While it's still daylight and he's weak," Edgar's gravelly voice finally broke through Michael's concentration.

Michael glanced at his mom, taking in her pale face and pinched expression. She didn't deserve this. She shouldn't have to sit there and listen to a couple of tactless prepubescent teenagers talk about killing her father with such a blase attitude they could have been discussing the weather.

"Or we could go after the Widow Johnson," Sam argued.

"There's no guarantee that she's really the head vampire," Alan huffed in annoyance.

Michael ground his jaw.

"We don't know that she's _not_ the head vampire either," Sam pressed.

Michael's his gaze roamed over the kitchen's interior. It was probably cleaner than it had been in years. Any damage sustained from That Night was completely erased as though it had never happened. Instead of questioning the miraculous recovery, his family was just grateful they didn't have to deal with the physical aftermath of That Night.

"As long as the Widow Johnson is alive, we are all in danger," Star at last spoke up.

"That's the one thing we actually do know Captain Obvious," Edgar rumbled.

Star crossed her arms and rolled her eyes.

"We should at least try to take out the Widow," Sam pleaded. He turned to Michael who was reminded how young his little brother still was. "Mike, what do you think we should do?"

Jesus Christ, he did not want to have this conversation. For a moment he wished with all his heart that he could go back and do everything different. He wished he had never followed Star around the boardwalk. He wished he had never challenged the Lost Boys. Most of all, he wished he had taken Star seriously when she warned him it really was blood in that gaudy wine bottle.

He looked to the closed doors of his grandfather's workshop. "I think… we should ask grandpa what he wants."

It would buy him a little time.

"What if," Lucy Emerson at last spoke up, "we don't go after anyone?"

She was staring hard into the distance, refusing to meet anybody's gaze.

"Mom?" Michael rasped.

"What if we… feed him. Someone can talk to his taxidermy friends. We could feed him… those animals."

Michael felt sick. His mother was seriously suggesting they feed her dad like he was some kind of nightmare pet from hell.

A cacophony of denial rang around the room.

"HELL. NO."

"Are you crazy?!"

"We can't!"

"Mom…"

Michael locked eyes with Sam. He could see the worry plainly written on his little brother's face.

The discussion petered out after that and the Frog brothers left shortly after, promising they would come back and "take care of everything". They would even give them _a discount_ because they were "friends". Star and Sam quietly started making lunch, shooting concerned looks at his mother now and then.

His mother just sat there at the table with her head in her hands, her shoulders slumped.

Guilt gripped his heart and clenched until it felt as though the weight of the organ dropped into his stomach.

God, he felt so helpless.

Stomach queasy, he pushed away from the table and left the kitchen. He couldn't stand to be in that room a moment longer. His body urged him to get up and do _something_.

The cool breeze on the porch cleared his head a little to the point he felt like he could slightly breath. He hadn't known it until he'd gone outside that he had already decided on what he needed to do. For once in life god damn life he was going to do the _right_ thing. It was the least he could do to make up for everything his family was going through. In fact, it was his fucking _obligation_ to fix this.

So, with that thought in mind, he grabbed a makeshift wooden stake from his grandfather's yard and tossed it into the passenger seat of his grandfather's Skyliner before hopping behind the wheel. Pulse pounding over the sound of the engine roaring to life, he peeled out of the driveway without a second thought.

The house got smaller in the rearview mirror as he down the dirt road, and he caught sight of Star standing on the edge of his grandfather's property. Probably fearing for the worst about what he was going to do. And Star would be right.

Michael was on his way to go kill the Widow Johnson. Even if it killed him.

* * *

**April 18th, 1906 Santa Carla**

**||2:00am||**

Rose woke with a gasp and the unshakeable sensation of time running out.

She took in her surroundings blearily. Somehow she found herself in a dimly lit bedroom decorated in the resort's familiar style save for the random knick knacks littered throughout the room. Various curtains hung haphazardly obscuring most of her view.

"Rose?" a breathless voice roused her from her stupor. "Oh thank god you're not dead."

She rolled her head to the side and spotted a familiar blond.

"Paul?" she croaked, her throat rough and scratchy.

Her friend was sat in a chair pulled up to her bedside, clutching her hand with both of his. She glanced at the clock across the room on a dresser and noticed David, Dwayne, and Marco scattered around the room.

David sauntered over to the other side of the bed where he sat down. "You've been unconscious for hours. We thought… _I_ thought you weren't going to make it." The joking smirk on his mouth didn't reach his eyes.

She blinked at him slowly, his words drifting through the thick fog that filled her head with cotton.

"What happened?" she asked hoarsely, struggling to sit up.

Paul released her hand and helped prop her up. "No clue. As soon as you took a drink it, uh, it looked like it hurt you somehow."

Dwayne grunted from where he leaned against a bookshelf, his arms crossed over his chest. "We've never seen that before. That wasn't supposed to happen."

She rested her head tiredly against the bed's headboard. "I feel… weird. Different."

_That's because you're halfway to becoming one of us,_ David whispered in her mind, a playful smirk dancing on his lips.

Startled by the mere fact that she was hearing his voice in her head at all, she nearly missed the message he was trying to get across.

"Halfway?" She blinked. "What more must I do?"

"You have to feed," David explained.

His eyes flashed a rancid yellow, ringed red. Quick as a flash, he leaned over and pecked her on the cheek. She breathed a soft "oh", blushing.

She looked to Paul. "What about you? Did you…? Are you…?"

The corner of his mouth twitched like he was going to smile, though it felt strained. He shook his head again. "No. I needed to make sure you were going to be alright first."

A lump of emotion stuck to the back of her throat. "I'm sorry Paul."

He reached over and tucked a strand of her red hair behind her ear and smiled sadly. "Don't be sorry."

She returned his smile.

"Actually, there is something else that I do need to tell you about." He winced.

Her smile dipped into a small frown. "What is it?"

"Right when you fainted- god, how to put it?" Paul started awkwardly. "Well first a brand sort of just showed up on the back of your neck? And now it's, uh, sort of inked into your skin? That wasn't there before was it?"

"What? No!" Rose sputtered.

Marco laughed from the foot of the bed. "I like it!"

Rose groaned loudly, covering her face with her hands. "My mother is going to kill me."

She sighed, letting her hands drop into her lap. Her gaze drifted around the room tiredly. "What happens now?"

Marco shrugged. "Drinks?"

* * *

**||2:20am||**

The resort bar looked different when it was closed for the night, Rose thought to herself. Darker, not as welcoming somehow. It was also the most quiet she had ever experienced it, which was also unsettling.

Marco busied himself with lighting a few candles around the room, for her and Paul's benefit she suspected. Speaking of Paul, he refused to leave her side the entire walk to the bar as though he was afraid she might suddenly faint again. Dwayne seemed to be operating on the same thought as he pulled out a chair for her to sit at a large table.

She wished they wouldn't fuss so much over her, but at the same time she thought their actions were sweet. If vampires could be thought of as sweet. She was sure they would protest.

"Rose, dear! Is that you?"

She felt her blood go cold and her body grew tense.

"Mother…" she muttered under her breath, groaning internally.

Elizabeth Carrington stood in the bar's entryway, peering disdainfully in the gloom before whisking into the room and making a beeline for her daughter.

"Where have you been Rose? You missed dinner and you weren't in your room when I checked! I've been so worried!" she fretted, looming over Rose.

Rose cringed. There was no way she could tell her mother she had spent most of the evening with four boys unchaperoned, let alone the fact that she had almost been turned into a creature of the night.

But at the same time, her mother _had_ caught her red handed in the company of the aforementioned four boys _unchaperoned_.

In a shocking turn of events, her mother saved her from what was sure to be a transparent excuse. "I've been looking for you for hours and I'm tired. It's time to come to bed, Rose."

Each of the boys shot her matching critical expressions.

Dwayne helped her to her feet and her mother appeared to at last notice his and the other boys existence. Elizabeth was met with varying degrees of contempt around the room. This did not phase her in the slightest Rose noted as she awkwardly made her way to the exit.

"Wait."

Rose eyed her mother warily. "Mother?"

A thoughtful expression came across the older woman's face. It was one Rose associated with what was sure to be one of her mother's cruel machinations. Rose waited with held breath for the older woman to hatch a terrible scheme.

"A nightcap is order, I believe, since we're in the right place."

Uncomprehending what was happening before her eyes, Rose watched her mother strut towards the bar and shoo David away so that he might join the others at the table. She wondered if that night could get any stranger as she returned to her seat. Surely her mother was playing a trick on Rose. Any moment she was going to snap and drag her daughter out of the room by her ear.

As her mother rounded the bar with a tray of poured drinks, a different sort of anxiety washed over Rose.

She was unexpectedly reminded of what Dwayne had divulged earlier that night.

_It's been suggested by more than one person that she poisoned her last husband and stole his fortune._

She felt her stomach turn as her fingers curled around her glass.

Elizabeth blood red lips split into a beguiling smile as she raised her glass to Rose. "To my enchanting daughter and her darling friends."

It felt as though time was moving through a viscous substance. She watched helplessly from outside her body as her friends drank. The mark on the back of Rose's neck throbbed.

The sound of glass crunching penetrated the ringing in her ears.

"Rose!"

Her mother had set aside her glass, her eyes wide and round.

Rose stared down at her bloodied hand numbly. Drink and shattered glass littered the table's surface.

Time sped up again.

She lifted a sardonic brow at the older woman.

"Really mother? Nightshade poison?" she asked sounding thoroughly unimpressed. "You _hag_…"

Hot tears pricked at the corner of her eyes. "Just tell me one thing before I turn you over: did you kill father?"

Paul swore, immediately dropping his glass. The others followed suit before converging around Elizabeth in a menacing wall, trapping her at the table. When the older woman attempted to step away from the table, Dwayne seized her upper arm in a vice grip.

Elizabeth huffed angrily. "It won't matter what I say, Rose. You won't believe me. But for what it's worth, no I did not kill your father. Are you still going to turn me into the authorities? Your own mother?"

A wicked smile curled the corners of Rose's lips. "I never said I was turning you over to the 'authorities', mother."

Her gaze cut over to David who quickly picked up on her meaning.

"Good news for you Paul. Looks like you're going to make the full transition tonight after all."

* * *

**||4:00am||**

It was only a matter of time before her new family came looking for her.

When the clock struck four in the morning Rose felt Paul's mind brush against hers in curiosity and she knew her moment alone was up.

She lifted her head enough to watch the wardrobe open from within and Marco poke his head out with a cheeky grin.

"I see you found the secret door to the next room." He hopped out of the wardrobe and strode over to her spot on the chaise lounge. He plopped down next to her without ceremony. "Shouldn't you be celebrating with the rest of us?"

Rose bit her lip. "I needed a moment to take in everything."

Of course, the word "everything" by definition is all encompassing and yet fell short to describe the impossible turn of events that her evening had taken. Seriously, she sneaks out one time and suddenly the evening becomes the plot of a dime novel!

Marco scratched his chin, his nails catching on a bit dried flakes of blood. "This about your mother?"

Rose looked away. "That hag wasn't my mother. She almost killed Paul. That is unforgivable. If I had to choose between her and you boys, I'd choose you. Which is what I did."

Elizabeth Carrington was dead to her long before Rose offered her up for Paul to feed on when he turned. And yet Rose hadn't been able to bring herself to watch it happen. So she had snuck away to be with her thoughts while her mother was drained of blood in the next room.

Marco laced his fingers through hers, drawing her gaze. "She was still your mother."

Rose didn't say anything in reply. They both knew the most important thing they cared about was that the blood wine had saved Paul from a horrible death and Elizabeth's sacrifice would ensure his immortality.

She squeezed Marco's hand, taking comfort from the contact. He smiled impishly and leaned over to kiss her cheek. Just then, the wardrobe doors opened again and out crept Paul, Dwayne, and David following.

"Awfully somber in here," David remarked jokingly.

Paul squeezed himself onto the chaise lounge. "You're not mad at me are you?" He rested his head on her shoulder.

She used her free hand to run her fingers through his hair in a comforting gesture. He practically purred under her touch. "It was my idea remember?"

"We'll find someone for you when you're ready," Dwayne assured her.

Rose smiled at him gratefully.

David cocked his head. "But there's something else that's bothering you."

There was no point in denying it. She knew he could sense it through their connection.

She sighed. "I can't help but feel like… something terrible is about to happen. I've had this awful sense of foreboding ever since I woke up with this mark on my neck."

The look in David's eyes softened some. "It's a big change. We can take it slow. But it's too late to turn back now, Rosie."

She frowned. "No, it's not about that. I think it's something else. I feel like something... devastating is coming."

"Whatever it is, we'll face it together, yeah?"

"Yeah." The corner of her mouth lifted weakly in a smile.

"In the meantime," Dwayne said, "there are a few other things we should discuss." He shot a meaningful look at David.

The pale blond nodded soberly. "Maximilian."

Rose shared a look of confusion with Paul. "Maximilian? The owner of this resort?"

Marco smirked. "The one and only."

"What does he have to do with anything?" Paul asked as he slung his arm around Rose's shoulders.

David chuckled. "Haven't you wondered how we got such convenient jobs here at the resort? How we got our own private rooms in the secret basement?"

Dwayne crossed his arms over his chest. "It's _his_ blood in the bottle. He's our sire. He's _your_ sire now, too."

A small frown turned down the corners of Rose's mouth. "What does that mean exactly?"

"He takes care of us and first thing tomorrow night we're going to talk to him. And then he'll take care of you too. One big happy family," David assured her.

Paul nodded his head absently. "Riiiight." He paused, struggling to contain his questions. "What exactly is a 'sire'?"

Marco snorted. "Think of him like your new dad. His word is law."

Rose scoffed. "I didn't think anybody could tell you boys what to do."

"Normally you would be right about that," Marco teased.

"But once an order is issued from your sire, you'll be compelled to fulfill it, whatever it is," Dwayne warned.

Rose did not like the sound of that. Turning to Paul she noted his equally unenthused expression.

"But don't you worry your pretty little heads," David chuckled, kneeling on the floor in front of them. He placed one hand on Rose's knee and the other on Paul's. "First thing tomorrow night I'm going to talk to Maximilian. I'm sure he'll be as taken with you as we are."

He sounded so sure.

And yet, the sinking feeling in her gut only worsened.

"And if he's not, we'll just kill him," Marco joked.

Dwayne snorted.

"Now how about we suss out the sleeping arrangements," David smirked, his eyes positively sinful.

* * *

**||5:12am||**

Some miles away…

The earth shook in San Francisco and the fault line that extended to Santa Carla opened up and swallowed the resort in a matter of seconds.

* * *

**||8:00pm||**

When Rose finally came around, she found herself curled on her side with her face pressed into wet sand.

Confused, she lifted her head and took in her surroundings with a wary eye.

"Boys?" she croaked when she saw David, Dwayne, Marco, and Paul just out of her reach.

The air was cold just as it was every night after the sun went down. They stood by the ocean which reeked with the stench of salt water and fish. Paul to her left. Marco to her right. David and Dwayne behind her.

"On your knees," a new voice commanded.

Rose sputtered as her body lurched into motion without her telling it to. Her knees dug into the sand, soaking the hem of the delicate slip she had worn to bed. She stared wide eyed at the man before her. His was a face she recognized instantly from the gaudy portrait that hung ostentatiously behind the resort's front desk.

It was him.

Maximilian.

The boys' sire.

"Do you love them? Truly love them?" he asked her.

The question was posed with the underlying severity of life and death. Meaning the answer she gave would decide if she lived… or died. Then again, if she was really being honest, she was dead the minute Maximilian had her in his sights. It didn't matter what she said. Nothing could save her now.

"If I lie and say no, will you let me go?"

Maximilian ignored her.

"In your eyes they can do no wrong," he remarked snidely. "So, you won't mind if they just kill you now."

A jolt of terror shot down her spine.

"Why are you doing this?"

His face suddenly turned monstrous. "Because I know _what_ you are. And I know what you have done."

She trembled. "What have I done to you?"

He bared his fangs in a frightening grin. "Not to me, little witch. Your sister."

Rose breathed a quiet gasp. "Sister…" An inkling of a memory bubbled to the surface of her mind. If she had the time to scratch the surface, she was certain everything would come rushing back to her.

"You took everything from her. You made her a widow. I would be remiss if I didn't send you into the great beyond in her name."

Rose made to run for it, fight back, anything to gain a little control of the dream. Her body was completely paralyzed. She was trapped whether she liked it or not. They all were.

She cast a tear ridden glance at the boys who stood by, unmoving and stone faced.

A flash of rage warmed her cold body as she faced Maximilian. "Please don't do this. Please don't make them do this. Not just for their sake. For yours too. They will never forgive you if you do this to them. If you're going to kill me, do it yourself asshole."

He tilted his head and actually laughed at her. "But then they will never learn. This way they won't make the same mistake twice."

"What exactly was their mistake?" She spat venomously.

His expression turned solemn. "Loving you," he told her honestly.

"Boys," he raised his voice and Rose could feel the underlying power to his command. "Drain her dry, but make it slow. I don't want a single drop wasted."

Between one heartbeat and the next, October felt four pairs of fangs sink into her flash and she wept and she wailed.

And even though the boys were helpless under the command of their sire, she could still sense their distraught minds crying out to her, begging her to forgive them even as her blood ran down their throats.

Her heart broke and with the organs last beats she sent them all the most reassuring thoughts she could muster.

_It's okay…_

_It's okay…_

_It's not your fault…_

_This isn't any of your faults…_

* * *

**July, 1987 Santa Carla**

A deep, shuddering breath rattled in her chest and October's eyes snapped open.


	15. The Uninvited Guest

The first thing October realized upon waking was that she remembered **everything**. Every. Single. Lifetime. And there were **many**.

The second thing she realized was the black cat staring intensely at her from her bedside; its big green eyes swimming with anxiety.

_About time, Sleeping Beauty!_ the cat yowled and then stretched up on its hind legs to lean its front paws on her chest.

October barked a sharp laugh. "Jesus Christ, give me a minute to collect myself."

She lifted the animal up and set it beside her as she sat up. On the other side of her appearing dead to the world was a welcomed sight. A certain platinum blond sprawled out atop the red duvet divested of his boots and his long coat, fast asleep.

October cast a quick glance at the clock on the bedroom dresser. The hands read about 5:30am.

"How long have I been out?" she asked her familiar.

_Three days,_ the feline dutifully informed her.

"Damn. Hope I didn't miss anything important," she muttered, returning her gaze to David's sleeping figure.

Her heart ached with longing.

Damn. Everything made so much sense now! Like the reason she hadn't freaked out as much when she first brought back the Lost Boys. How easily she had rolled with the impossible turn of events. Why she had such a mastery of magic when she hadn't even known it was real.

"You've passed out in front of me almost three times since we met, you know."

October inhaled sharply.

A smirk played on the vampire's lips, though his eyes remained closed. "You should probably think about breaking that habit," he continued.

She quivered at the low rasp of his drowsy voice.

_Fuck, I want to kiss him right now,_ the thought flashed across her brain.

David chuckled. "By all means, kiss me, I dare you."

He flicked one eye open to watch her. Damn she had missed him. She had missed him so damn much, tears pricked the corners of her eyes.

Slowly, she leaned over him. Her long black falling around David's head like a curtain. They were both reminded of the chaste kiss they shared the night he became head vampire of the Lost Boys.

Their lips brushed delicately when suddenly the bedroom door flew open.

"I knew it! I told you guys she was awake!" Paul exclaimed in his usual boisterous manner as he bounded into the room.

David and October groaned as they reluctantly parted.

Dwayne swept in behind Paul. He took one look at the platinum blond and the witch and raised a critical brow. "Are we interrupting you two?"

Marco cackled as he made for the bed. "Didn't you hear? October wants to make out with David!"

October huffed with irritation. She'd forgotten they could hear her thoughts. So embarrassing...

Paul hopped onto the bed, immediately pulling her into an embrace. "October we were so worried you'd never wake up! And yet here you are locking lips with Davie here!"

She giggled, struggling to free her arms enough to wrap them around the rocker. "Why Paul, are you jealous? You know you can kiss me too if that's what you really want," she teased.

Paul growled; a deep, hungry sound. "Don't tempt me, witchy lady."

She nuzzled into the juncture of his neck, a grin plastered on her black painted lips. "Oh, I'm perfectly serious."

"Hey! There's time for that later you sluts," Marco joked, throwing his arms around both of them.

Paul nipped playfully at Marco's ear. "Who you calling slut, slut."

October threw her head back and laughed.

"Come on, get in here you two," she looked pointedly at Dwayne and then David who each rolled their eyes.

Dwayne was the first to crack as he approached them, entering the group hug with a show of reluctance that October knew was faked. She peeked out at David with a dare in her eyes. He met the look head on. With a halfhearted grumble, he maneuvered over to the group and entered their embrace.

"Did your spell work?" Marco asked her softly, his warm breath on her neck.

At long last. She had her boys back.

She smiled. "Yeah. It did."

A witch of all people knows that magic is real. And yet, October still couldn't help but wonder what sort of magic existed to give them all a second chance to be together. She might not have been the one to cast the spell that literally reached through time and sent her back to correct the Lost Boy's path, but she was undeniably grateful to whoever had done so.

Her familiar growled. _Does no one hear that incessant barking?_

October scowled at the creature. "The cat said something about barking?" she translated for the boys. "Where's PJ?"

"Paul Jr.! I'm coming buddy!" Paul exclaimed, wriggling out of the hug, throwing elbows and shoving everyone out of the way in his haste.

They amusedly watched him disappear from the room in a panic.

_Someone's here._ The cat hissed.

"Wait, what?" October struggled to her feet, the moment already ruined. "Who's here?"

The creature didn't answer. Instead it leapt from the bed and promptly vanished as October looked on in annoyance.

"Un-freaking-believable. Again?"

* * *

A fierce storm had arrived when David and the others climbed the stairs out onto the bluff. Heavy rain pelted the ground but with a wave of October's hand not a single drop touched them.

David didn't think much of the person curled up in the fetal position on the ground, soaked to the bone and trembling just beyond the caution signs.

His second in command naturally took lead and cut a look at October for her to join him at the front of the group as they approached the trembling figure.

He was reminded of when October first cast her spells on the hotel and he had interrogated how she planned to protect his tribe. _There's a glamour on the place so strong that will make anyone but us too terrified to come anywhere near the entrance, _**_you ass_**. Seeing how effectively her spell had caught a man like prey in a spider's web, he felt foolish for doubting her abilities.

The guy was totally helpless while in the throes of October's spell. He didn't even react when the witch crouched down beside him and lifted his head by the roots of his matted hair.

Despite the rain and the mud, David recognized him.

It was a shock to his system. One he could feel ricocheting through the bond he shared with the others.

The ground suddenly felt uneven and it was only by the strength of his tribe that he didn't stumble.

Marco was the first to react. He hastily pulled October up and away. Her protests at being manhandled were weak as she sensed the change in atmosphere.

A small piece of David felt gratitude towards his brother for his quick thinking as he was terrified by the thought of what harm this boy could bring to the witch. Such a thought brought him right to the precipice and hurtled him over the edge into a boiling rage.

"_You shouldn't have come here Michael,"_ David snarled, baring his sharp teeth.

The stranger's eyes, Michael's eyes, rolled back in terror. David wondered if that was the spell's doing or if Michael was actually reacting to his presence. Was he even aware of his surroundings? Did he know that his worst nightmare was really back from the dead standing right in front of him?

David needed to be sure he had Michael's attention.

His boot connected with Michael's chest, the strength of his full power behind it. Bones gave under the collision and the sound was so satisfying. He leered over Michael who was clutching his ribs as he sunk deeper into the mud.

Michael wheezed. "David please…"

David's lip curled. How pathetic. He couldn't believe this drowned rat nearly ruined his life.

"You shouldn't have come back here," he repeated.

It was so tempting to just _give in_ and tear him apart. Strip the flesh from his broken, shattered bones. With his teeth.

A broken sound slipped through Michael's clenched teeth. His muddied face screwed up in torment.

"I have nowhere else to go!" he wailed in anguish. "I can't go home. N-not like this…"

Not like…?

"Holy shit." Paul whistled. "He's a vampire."

David should have noticed it sooner. He could just pick up the watered down scent of blood underneath the mud.

There was too much blood staining Michael's shirt to all belong to him.

David felt his heart sink.

Dwayne smiled cruelly. "Sun'll be up in an hour or two. We could just leave him out here. Let him burn."

"No."

They all looked to David.

"No. Death is too good for him."

It was as though all the burning rage flew out of him. All that was left was…

… heartache.

He tore his gaze away from Michael's huddled up form and focused on a spot in the distance.

"Bring him inside. Then we'll figure out what to do with him tomorrow night."

* * *

October's mind was reeling.

_What the fuck is going on?_

His face was hard to read when it was vamped out and even as his features smoothed out into something more human, it still felt to her as though she was still looking at a mask.

She watched David retreat down the rickety stairs into the hotel in bewilderment. The others appeared equally flummoxed by his sudden change in attitude as they loitered around the newcomer's shriveled up figure. With great effort she forced herself to turn her attention back to the trespasser who had caused such a ruckus.

She snapped her fingers the whimpering boy swiftly lost consciousness.

Dwayne hauled Michael's limp body over his shoulder lack a sack of wet potatoes and carried him down into the hotel with his brothers.

They were all very quiet as they dumped the uninvited guest in an empty room. October locked the door and drew a sigil on the wood with her lipstick to keep the door locked for good measure. Wordlessly, they Lost Boys and their witch settled in David's room.

"Can someone please explain to me what the actual fuck just happened?"

_What do we tell her?_

_How about the truth?_

_Yeah, fuck it. Who wants to do the honors?_

To the surprise of everyone in the room, it was Dwayne who did the honors. And he did not hold back.

October listened as Dwayne poured his heart out. He talked about how their sire, the man who turned all of them into vampires in the first place, wanted to expand the tribe. How he ordered the Lost Boys to recruit the guy currently locked in a room down the hall. How they couldn't refuse.

And then Dwayne admitted that after they met Michael they were all for it. He was a Lost Boy through and through. October tried not to admit how jealousy surged through her at the thought of her loved ones moving on while she existed in limbo. Such a feeling left her guilt ridden. She reasoned with herself that it was healthy for them to find someone else to share their very long lives with as the goddess of witches, Hecate, made plans for her next life. After all, she didn't own them. Yet, it still stung.

But Michael's initiation went sideways and he stabbed them all in the back. Or, technically speaking, the front. And coincidently right through the heart. At least, in David's case.

On the plus side, Michael's family managed to off their sire, thus freeing them from his firm grasp.

"What are your plans for him now? Do you want me to kill him? Hex him? Because I totally will if you ask."

The got a chuckle from the previously somber boys.

"Save that thought for tomorrow," David told her.

* * *

Dawn finally arrived and October left the vampires to rest while she went to raid the kitchens. Though she was tempted to sleep the day away in her lovers' arms, being in a magic induced coma for three days was no joke! She was starving!

As she picked through leftovers, her thoughts drifted.

The Lost Boys obviously didn't know who she really was.

They hadn't recognised Elizabeth's ghost and the name 'Rose' meant nothing to them. She didn't understand. Did they remember anything from back then?

There had to be a reason they didn't remember her past life. She could probably use a spell to _make_ them remember. But how would she explain that? _Hey guys, so I noticed you somehow don't remember this, but we've met before during my previous life. Can I cast a spell on you to try and jar those memories loose?_

Right. Because that would go over so well.

She wondered when her familiar would pop in again. Maybe the cat could shed some semblance of wisdom on the matter. Maybe if she gave the creature a name it would be nicer to her.

With a full stomach and a heavy heart she left the kitchen and wandered into the lobby.

She stopped short when she saw David standing behind the front desk.

A wry grin worked its way onto her face. "Hey, what are you doing up?" she asked him, making her way over to the desk.

His back was to her as he faced the giant poster of Jim Morrison. He didn't answer. In fact, she wasn't sure he heard her at all.

Her witch's mark throbbed.

She placed a hand over the mark and rubbed it absently. "David?"

"It's been a long time, Rose," a new voice spoke up.

_What. The. Fuck._

She spun around.

Lounging smugly in David's wheelchair was Michael.

He smirked. "I'm told you go by October now," he continued.

"How are you not locked up right now?" she snapped at him.

"I had some help." He cast a meaningful glance towards David's unmoving figure.

_What. The. _**_Actual._**_ Fuck._

Her eyes slitted. "You're not Michael."

Not-Michael tilted his head, his eyes glowing with amusement. "No."

Suddenly, David lurched into motion. He gripped the poster of Jim Morrison and yanked it down, revealing the portrait behind it.

"You knew me by a different name back in the day."

October understood why her mark had warned her of an imminent danger as she gazed up at the portrait.

"Maximilian," she gasped, a shiver moving up her spine.

Of course! That's why David wasn't acting like himself. Max was still his sire!

To her horror, David picked up a sharpened stake from behind the front desk and pointed it at his heart.

"Here's what is going to happen," Michael/Max told her, "You're going to magic us to a secondary location or I'm going to kill David here."

A lump formed in her throat. She balled her fists until her fingernails dug crescents into her palms.

"I'll just bring him back." She swallowed roughly. "I'm a lot stronger than last time."

Feathers ruffled, Michael/Max scowled. "Your spell outside was quite a doozy. I lost my bearings for a while there and Michael took the wheel in the meantime."

He appeared thoughtful. "How about a deal then? Do what I tell you and I'll give my children their memories back."

Her heart started racing. Well, fuck. His offer was enticing despite the fact that she knew what a monumentally bad idea it was to listen to this guy.

"No deal."

Michael/Max drew himself up to his feet. He brushed invisible dirt from his leather jacket sleeves and October had to resist the urge to roll her eyes.

"Well, I tried to do you a favor. Guess I'm back to square one."

David moved too fast for her get away. His arms closed around her as he pulled her back to his chest, the stake poised over her heart. Her breath stuttered.

Oh no. It was happening all over again.

Tears pricked at her eyes but she would be damned if she cried in front of this asshole. "W-wait! You need m-me. You can't kill me."

Michael/Max smiled. "It would be awfully repetitive, wouldn't it?"

_Bastard. I oughta hex this stain off the face of the planet. The boys would thank me._

She jut her chin out defiantly. "Why are you doing this? Huh? How are you wearing this guy's body?"

"Pretty neat, right?" Michael/Max spread his arms around and did a slow spin. "It was quite the coincidence when he just showed up on your older sister's doorstep. I think it's fitting."

Her face paled.

"My sister..."

He chuckled lowly. "You know, your sister is going by another name now too. The boys probably mentioned her to you. The Widow Johnson."


	16. The Weird Sisters

God. What were the chances her estranged, vampire sister would settle down in the town her most recent past life ended?

_Okay,_ October thought to herself. _That would explain a lot actually._

Lying prone and paralyzed in the dark where Michael/Max had left her, she had all day to think on the extraordinary events that led her here. "Here" being the Widow Johnson's basement, pinned down to a long dining table by stakes made of pure iron balanced on her wrists, her ankles, and her throat.

It was only a matter of time before her sister finally made her grand entrance and dived into a bad guy monologue. In the meantime, October had nothing but her own thoughts to keep her occupied while she waited for sundown.

She wasn't alone, though, technically. In the locked casket shoved against the far wall, David slumbered, unhelpful and totally useless.

October sighed heavily.

This sucked.

At least it did until…

"You are so _fucked_ this time."

October glanced out of the corner of her eye.

_What on Earth?_ she thought.

A little girl stood by her head with her arms crossed as she curled her lip like just being near October was a massive disappointment.

October blinked in confusion. "Excuse you? How did you get in here?"

The girl rolled her eyes. "I let myself in, dumbass."

"Whoa, okay. First of all, fucking _language_," October scoffed. "Second of all, who are you…?"

In lieu of answering the little girl just stared at her expectantly. Which only confused October more. After about a minute of awkward silence, the girl groaned and rolled her eyes dramatically.

She rolled her left sleeve up and brandished her wrist over October's face. "Recognize me _now_?" She asked in a snotty tone October did not appreciate.

October glared at the girl before she looked.

There, inked into her wrist was a witch's mark.

Her eyes widened.

"Oh thank Hecate. It's you." A hysterical giggle burst from her lips.

Her eldest sister was there to save her from the Widow Johnson! There were so many concerning, seriously fucked up implications behind that one realization that October's brain short circuited as she worked through it all.

Her _eldest_ sister was currently a small child.

Her eldest sister was currently a small child _who remembered she was a witch_.

Her eldest sister was currently a small child who knew she was a witch _and was somehow in the same proximity of her other sisters. Something that hadn't happened in literal _**_ages_**_. And for good reason._

There was only one way her sister knew she was a witch so early in this new lifetime. The Widow Johnson had clearly threatened her and _forced_ her to wake up. A huge witch no-no. They were in uncharted waters now.

Breathless, she blinked back unexpected tears. "H-how are you even awake right now? Are you okay?"

Her sister took her wrist back and rolled down her sleeve again. Unfazed, she arched a delicate brow. "Seriously? The paralyzed girl stuck to a table in a dirty basement of a notorious vampire is asking if _I'm_ okay?"

October sniffed. "Shut up. How are you even here right now?"

Her sister slapped her forehead and groaned like October was the stupidest person in the world. "Are you fucking kidding me right now? Who do you think sent you back in time in the first place?"

October paused as that information sunk in.

"Wait, that was you? WHY?"

Her sister sobered at the question. "Our sister is on the warpath. You need to stop her."

"You need me to stop her?" October drawled out slowly, testing her sisters words out. "Okay, how exactly am I supposed to do that? I know we haven't spoken a while, but you probably don't know what happened. What I did to her. So, why don't you get me out of here and we can both run away while we still have a chance. Sound good?"

Her sister scowled at her. "No. Not good. You can not keep running away from her. Your mess is encroaching on my life now and you need to clean it up. I even threw in your old boyfriends as a perk."

October wanted to scream.

She grit her teeth. "So, no matter what I say, you're just going to leave me here like a sacrificial lamb and hope for the best?"

Her sister scoffed. "I have complete faith in you," she said with eyes averted.

"Don't bother. You'll end up regretting it," a new voice cut in from the basement stairs landing.

_Oh great. Here we go,_ October groaned internally. If she could turn her head she was sure she would see the so-called Widow Johnson strutting down the basement stairs as she made her dramatic entrance. _Ugh. Textbook middle child_.

"Comfortable?"

October stared up at her older sister disdainfully as she peered over her, a smug look on her face.

She raised a brow but otherwise kept her expression fairly neutral. "Super. You do know people are calling you 'The Widow Johnson' behind your back, right?"

Their older sister snorted from where she perched on top of David's casket. The widow shot a warning glance at her.

"I go by Maud these days." Her smug expression slipped into a scowl. "And our sister here is called Jessica in this lifetime."

October hummed in acknowledgement.

Maud tilted her head curiously. "You're not very talkative," she pointed out.

October shrugged, tried to anyway. "Well, there's no point in begging for my life. You already know I'll just move on to my next life if you kill me. Or maybe you forgot that part? It's been a while since you were a witch."

Their older sister, Jessica, sighed deeply through her nose and shook her head.

Maud's eyes flashed yellow and October managed to touch a nerve. Gleefully, and perhaps recklessly, she pushed on.

"You know, I think that was the last time we hung out. Around the time you turned. Gosh, that was a long time ago wasn't it? Hey, what did they end up calling it? 'The Year Without Summer' or something. That's when you met that guy, right?"

Maud's face completely morphed into that of a hideous beast. **"You do ****_not_**** speak of him."**

It was so sad how easy it was to wind her up, October mused silently to herself.

And then her sister's features smoothed out into the mature face she was so familiar with. She smiled delicately at October, instantly putting her edge.

"I'm not going to kill you, sister. But I am going to make you suffer." Her gaze flickered over to Jessica before returning to October. "That's why I need our big sister. Fight fire with fire. Fight _witches_ with _witches_."

Jessica remained uncharacteristically quiet.

October eyes narrowed. "You had no right to wake her up this early in her new lifetime. Hecate intended for a blissfully ignorant childhood for every reincarnation. That was part of the deal. I have no idea why she's even humoring whatever crazy plan you have to torture me with."

Maud reached over and brushed a strand of October's hair behind her ear. She cringed internally, suddenly hyper aware of how vulnerable she was.

"If our sister doesn't do what I tell her to, I will destroy her life here in Santa Carla. And she can't do a single witchy thing about it because like you mentioned before, I used to be a witch too. I know all your weaknesses."

* * *

Twenty Four hours came and went. Michael had not returned and neither had Star for that matter which means Sam was stuck watching Laddie while Star was out searching for his stupid brother. Well, technically his mom looked after Laddie while Sam wrestled with indecision on how to proceed.

Should he go after Michael himself?

Should he go to the Frog brothers and ask _them_ for help?

But as much as he wanted to play the hero and save his brother _again_, there was still a small, damaged part of himself that was deathly afraid of returning to the never ending nightmare that almost got his entire family killed in the first place. That small part of himself must have been bigger than he thought because it kept him confined to his grandfather's property. He made excuse after excuse on why he should sit tight. Wait this out.

If anyone could talk his idiot brother down from a suicide mission, it was Star.

Plus, he couldn't just leave his mom alone to deal with her half-vampire father.

He was totally out of holy water! How was he supposed to fight vampires without holy water? Well, he supposed he could pick that up on the way. But still.

Round and round his thoughts spun all day.

While his mom amused Laddie with mundane chores around the house, Sam kept a vigil over his grandfather. The fact that his grandfather was obviously still turning into a vampire had to mean that Michael obviously failed in his mission to kill the Widow. And since Star had yet to return, she was probably dead too. Hell, it was probably a matter of time before the sun set and the Widow came for them all!

Sam hit his breaking point with half an hour of sunlight left.

He didn't say goodbye to his mom. He swore to himself that he wasn't going to do anything stupid. He was one hundred percent going to come back, unlike his useless big brother. This was just a recon mission to gather info. And he wasn't going alone, either. First he was going to pick up the Frog brothers and then they were going to go scope out the Widow's place.

Still, he felt heart achingly guilty for sneaking out and most likely causing his mother even more grief, so he left a note explaining his semblance of a plan.

He managed to swipe his grandfather's keys and stole the skyliner down the dirt road into town, towards the boardwalk.

Breathless and panting from the mad dash across the packed parking lot and down the boardwalk, he rapped on the steel door of the closed Frog brothers comic book shop until Egar lifted the cover enough for him to shimmer under. As soon as Sam was safely inside the shop and the steel barrier was locked back in place, Edgar roughly grabbed hold of his arm and forcibly towed him towards the back.

"Were you followed?" he growled.

Sam scowled. "What? No!"

Edgar ushered him behind the checkout counter where his brother was whittling away at a wooden stake with a sharp knife. Displayed on the counter top was an array of weapons. Three holy water guns, an armful of wooden stakes, and some wicked looking hunting knives that made Sam wonder how a couple of teenagers got their hands on.

"We figured your brother got himself killed when you didn't call us with an update," Alan informed him in an annoyingly flat tone.

Sam seethed at his tact. Jesus, he really didn't know how he was supposed to put up with these sociopaths again. He allowed their words to slide off his back so he could push forward. Time was of the essence or whatever.

He placed both hands on the counter top and grabbed their attention.

"If you're going after the Widow, I'm coming with you. Michael is my brother and I need to know if...if he's really dead. Plus, I'm the only one here who actually knows where the Widow lives," he explained.

Edgar crossed his arms and his usual glower somehow deepened. He shared a thoughtful glance with Alan as they communicated silently. Sam was pretty sure they were putting on a front as there was no way they could do this without him.

"Fine. You've proven yourself before. We actually make a decent team," Edgar acquiesced with a gruff nod.

Sam beamed. "Great! Let's go right now!"

The brothers looked like they were about to protest when the lights in the shop suddenly flickered ominously before turning off entirely.

Darkness swallowed the cramped space and the only sounds that could be heard was Edgar and Alan swearing as they fumbled for flashlights. The hair on the back of his neck stood up and Sam slowly turned around, squinting into the darkness. His breath stuttered when the lights surged on, blinding him momentarily.

Three figures stood in the previously empty shop and Sam recognized them instantly.

Edgar and Alan jerked in surprise and he knew they spotted the figures too.

"Son of a bitch! I owe you $50," Alan told his brother in a rush as he grappled for a stake.

Edgar seized hold of a knife. "You can pay up if we live to see the sunrise," he grunted.

The three men stalked towards them slowly, their faces warped and demonic. Reflexively, Sam reached for a water gun and aimed it at the creature leading the other two. A cold sweat broke out on his skin when he realized the vampire in his sights was the same one he had shot full arrows in his grandfather's living room.

Honestly he wanted to cry because there was no way this was happening. "Y-you're not real. _You're dead!_"

"Only on the inside," one of the blond vampires quipped with a smirk.

"Tell us where you're keeping David and October, Sam, and we'll make your death quick," the dark haired vampire snarled.

Sam's finger hovered over the toy trigger. He opened his mouth to make a witty retort, but the words died on his tongue as he processed what the guy said.

Edgar and Alan exchange confused glances next to him.

"What are you talking about?" Sam demanded. "Who's October?"

The dark haired vampire gave pause for a split second. His dark gaze bore into Sam like he was searching for something. A shiver crawled up his spine.

"You don't know. Do you." The way he said it made Sam think the guy already knew the answer.

His heart started beating a little faster. "Know what?"

The twisted sister looking blond sneered at him. "Your brother is like us now. And this time, there's no going back."

Sam's eyes widened. At last, the other shoe he had been waiting to drop all day finally did. This was almost worse than finding out Michael was dead, because now he was _un_dead. Half of his family was undead now or quickly on their way to becoming so. Fuck, if the Lost Boys were still alive did that mean Max was too?

"You're lying!" he raged.

He needed them to be lying. He needed for this entire day to be a lie. He desperately needed to find his brother so he could tell him everything was going to be fine. The monsters weren't coming back.

"Let's take 'em out Sam!" Edgar growled.

Alan hollered in agreement.

The curly blond flashed his fangs. "I'd like to see you try it again!"

Before the young hunters could respond, a resounding "No" cut through the tension, capturing everyone's attention.

Sam steadied the water gun in his hands as he squared his jaw. "We're going after the Widow Johnson and you're not going to get in our way."

The two blond vampires snickered rudely, but they didn't react beyond that. Instead they looked to their de facto leader. The stoic, dark haired vampire was hard to read.

"They don't know where David or October are. We're done here," he stated after a beat.

The lights flickered again just as it had when they first appeared before plunging the room into darkness.

When the lights came back on, Sam and the Frog brothers were alone.

Edgar grunted loudly. "Yeah! You better run!" he called out to the empty shop.

His brother inclined his head and looked to Sam. "Even though we failed to eliminate the vampires that are after your family and your brother got turned after all, there are no refunds."

"Fuck you, Alan."


	17. Family Reunion

Waking up to find David missing from their bed was bad enough for Paul.

After that, he roused the others and together they searched for October in vain.

And that was when they discovered their prisoner was missing as well.

The night was undeniably bad, yes. But all Paul could think about was the worst day of his life when he was woken from a dead sleep as Marko was brutally murdered next to him. Deep down, he knew David wasn't dead and neither was October for that matter. He would have sensed the moment either of them were hurt.

So it was a mystery as to what happened. One that Paul was desperate to solve because the sooner he did, the sooner he could get his loved ones back safe and sound. If he found out Michael had anything to do with this, if he did plan to hurt his family, that piece of shit had another thing coming...

"We need to look for them," he insisted to a pacing Dwayne.

The dark haired vampire barely spared him a glance as he paced the length of what was supposed to be the room imprisoning their enemy.

"Where do you suggest we start?" Dwayne snapped at him. "We can't reach David or October's mind because something is blocking us. We have no way of knowing where they went or if they're in the same place."

Marko was uncharacteristically quiet standing in the doorway. Memories of the worst day of his life had him especially well tuned to where the curly blond stood.

"We can't just stay here and wait for them to come back!" Paul shouted.

Dwayne abruptly stopped his pacing and snarled at him, "You would have us repeat the same mistake of going after Emerson on his home turf? Look what happened last time! We all **died**."

Paul fumbled for a come back, anything to get across the sense of urgency he felt brimming underneath his skin. He glanced at Marko for help but the other vampire was staring unhelpfully off into space.

Paul frowned and looked back at Dwayne. "That's not what I'm saying we should do. There are other places to look."

A pensive aura fell over Dwayne. He crossed his arms and raised a brow. "Are you talking about the Frogs?"

At the mere mention of their name, Paul sensed a wave of anxiety from the doorway.

Maybe he should have said something. Maybe he should have asked if Marko was okay with anything involving the Frogs. But he didn't. Members of his family were _missing_. They could be in _danger_. Alright, so he didn't know for sure if they were in danger. Either way, he needed to know. To be sure.

When they ambushed the Frog brothers, Marko held himself together pretty well. If you didn't have a direct line to his brain you wouldn't even be able to tell how uneasy he really was. Hell, the guy actually teased the teen hunters.

Paul wasn't sure if he was surprised to see Michael's little brother with the Frog's. Did that mean he was working with them? Was he in on some kind of plan the Frogs had?

But that didn't make sense in the end because there was no way these teenagers who had worked so hard to keep Michael from becoming a monster would ever plan for him to actually turn. Something else had to be up. Someone else had to have sired Michael this time around. Dwayne came to the same conclusion before he ordered them to leave.

They knew exactly where to look next as there was only one other vampire in town that they knew of. So that was how they ended up in the Widow Johnson's backyard.

Paul couldn't really remember the last time he had been to the Widow's house, if ever. Any time Max had ever taken the time to meet with the Widow on her own turf he would go alone or bring David. As he surveyed the property he decided that the Widow and Max seemed to share similar tastes. The lawn was manicured, the garden was well tended to, and the house in one word was charming.

He hated literally everything about it.

Well, maybe not everything. The place did have one thing going for it and that was the fact that it was right by the ocean. Just beyond the little fence bordering the garden was a fucking private beach!

Not as distracted by the beach front view, Dwayne made a beeline for the boathouse built next to the garden. For once, Marko and Paul wordlessly followed behind him. The closer they got, the more he could pick up the day old scent of spilled human blood. His first thought was _October?!_ before Dwayne reassured him the blood wasn't hers, but someone else's.

Dwayne applied a little pressure to the locked door and it swung open.

There in the gloomy light cast through the high set windows, a bloody massacre was revealed.

"Fucking Christ…" Paul muttered as he took in the carnage.

Marko crept slowly into the building to get a better look, his mouth agape. "Shit, is that…?"

"Star," Dwayne confirmed grimly.

Paul couldn't tear his eyes away from the sight of Star's dismembered body. He hadn't been all that close to Star to begin with, but still. What a way to go. The more selfish part of him had wanted to have the satisfaction of chowing down on the traiter.

"Michael did this?" Marko asked in amazement.

"So much for true love," Paul snorted, glancing at the others with a smirk.

Dwayne was studying the scene intensely. Whatever he was seeing caused his lips to dip into a frown. He shook his head slowly before meeting the others' eyes.

"Something's not right here."

Before Paul could ask what the dark haired vampire meant, a new voice spoke up behind them.

"Excellent observation, Dwayne!"

Paul immediately dropped his human visage and allowed his features to shift as he bared his fangs.

He and his brother's pivoted around to face the one who had spoken.

While they had gone to the Widow Johnson's house to accuse her of turning Michael, it wasn't a huge surprise to find Michael actually at the Widow Johnson's house. No sir, there was nothing surprising at all about seeing Michael standing smackdab in the middle of the Widow's garden path that lead straight to the boat house and Star's dead body.

What really came as a surprise was David standing behind him with a dour little girl at his side holding his hand.

_I don't like the look of this,_ Marko whispered to their minds.

He and Dwayne silently agreed.

_David, what the hell is going on man?_ Dwayne attempted to ask their leader.

They received only silence. It was like something was blocking them from getting into his head. His eyes were vacant, simply staring into space as though he wasn't really there with them.

"What did you do to him?" Paul demanded of Michael.

"Don't mind them," Michael told them, waving a hand dismissively at David and the little girl behind him. "We'll get to that."

"Where is October, Michael!" Paul snapped.

The piece of shit smiled charmingly at him. _"Manners,_ my boy. I thought I raised you better than that. I'm not the one trespassing right now. You best watch your tone."

_What the fuck?_ Paul thought, scowling.

_Something's wrong,_ Marko insisted, sizing up the little girl who had been silent so far, though the expression on her face spoke volumes about how apprehensive she was.

Caw!

Suddenly a big black bird swooped in from out of nowhere and landed on David's shoulder.

Everything, well, not "everything", _one_ thing clicked as they stared at the bird on David's shoulder and then down at the little girl.

"Hopefully by now you've figured out my friend here is a witch. You probably know her sister. Both of her sister's actually," Michael chuckled and oh how Paul hated the sound. Only, it was nothing like the nervous little scoff from that first night they invited the teenager into their home. No, this chuckle reminded him of someone else entirely.

"I'll let you in on another thing," Michael whispered to them conspiratorially, leaning in as if revealing a secret, "I'm not really Michael."

No.

Just, fucking, **no**.

Paul was so fucking done with this shit. It was already turning out to be a really long night. He had officially reached his threshold for putting up with all this cryptic bullshit. He just wanted to get David and find October so they could finally go home. Maybe smoke a joint when they did.

"What did you do to David?" Marko asked, speaking up finally.

Michael, or whoever the fuck he was, cocked his head. "I made him into the obedient son he was always meant to be."

Wait.

_Son?_

Dwayne, of course it was Dwayne who figured it out first, growled lowly. "**Max**."

Max-not-Michael grinned savagely, showing off all his inhuman teeth.

OH.

FUCK.

Paul looked dubiously from Dwayne to Max-not-Michael, then back to Dwayne, and so on. It was deeply disturbing to see Max's smile on Michael's face, but not nearly as disturbing as the thought of someone who called himself their father was possessing the body of someone they knew.

He was so confused! What the fuck was even going on?

"Little Jessica," Max-not-Michael addressed the little girl holding David's hand, "remember what we discussed earlier?

She gave a curt nod.

"I think it's time your work your magic."

Dwayne unconsciously moved to take the lead so Paul and Marko stood behind him.

The little girl's, Jessica's, familiar cawed ominously at them.

"No need to be nervous," Max-not-Michael chuckled.

_Easy for him to say,_ Paul thought, bracing himself when the small witch caught his gaze with a laser-like focus. He was frozen. He struggled to look away, but he couldn't. It was as though his eyeballs were hooked in place and then any surrounding noise faded into a cacophony of unintelligible whispers.

Right as he felt like his eyes were welling up with black ichor, the witch broke their connection, leaving him dazed and temporarily blinded.

He rubbed his eyes furiously until eventually lights and colors crept back into his vision. Except, when his vision fully returned, what he saw made no sense. A flash of images he didn't understand came rushing at him.

"They're memories. Memories that I took from you a long time ago," he heard Max-not-Michael explain with sympathy that was obviously fake.

The vision of stolen memories waned until they disappeared entirely. Paul looked to his brothers who appeared equally unsteady from the magical onslaught. He grit his teeth and flexed his claws.

"You made us kill Rose for no good reason," Marko snarled.

Max-not-Michael crossed his arms. "You gave two people, two _strangers_, my blood without my permission. That was against the rules. You had to be punished."

Paul was run through with sharp stab of despair as he processed Rose's cruel murder. Though it happened years ago, it felt as though no time had passed. His hatred for Max doubled.

"Then why didn't you kill me too?!"

Max-not-Michael hardly bat an eye at him. "I don't have to explain myself to you selfish brats. The reason I even returned your memories is to make this make this next part of the evening all the more satisfying."

"What's the next part? When we rip your fucking head off maybe?" Dwayne growled, looking ready to pounce.

Max-not-Michael didn't appear phased beyond the skeptical lift of an eye brow. "I think not. This is where I say goodbye. This family was never going to work out. I need a clean slate if I'm going to start over."

Paul's eyes bugged out of his head with disbelief. "Are you shitting me right now? Is this still about the Emersons? Fuck off already!"

Max-not-Michael inclined his head in David and the little witch's direction, his mouth turned down into a frown. "Miss. Sanford you can go back inside now. I believe your sister, Maude, needs you."

The girl let go of David's hand mutely and turned to the Widow's house. Her familiar gave one last threatening caw before taking flight.

Paul got the distinct impression that something really messed up was about to happen.

"David, go ahead and do what I told you to do earlier," Max-not-Michael instructed calmly. "Tell them what I told you."

_David, come on. Fight it,_ Marko pleaded.

Their leader's face was unnaturally vacant. Paul knew there was no hope of reaching him.

David opened his mouth and told them mechanically, "...Kill each other."


	18. Bye-Bye Darling

Sam parked the car farther away than he felt comfortable with. If they ran into trouble, which seemed a given at this point, there was no way they'd be able to make it the car for a quick getaway when they inevitably pissed off a hungry vampire. But at the same time, he knew their one advantage was the element of surprise. Hard to have the element of surprise if they parked in the Widow Johnson's front lawn.

Edgar and Alan made were adamant about going through the back of the house so they circled around the large property until they reached the backyard. The voices they heard made them freeze, fearing they had been caught already. It was Sam who urged them all into the back of a boat house on the far edge of the yard. They appeared to not have been noticed and for a blessed moment they were safe.

"Oh shit!" Alan exclaimed before his brother was clamping a hand over his mouth to stifle him.

Sam quickly followed his startled eyeline, reflexively raising his holy water filled gun in the same direction. He just barely managed to keep himself from screaming in terror at the grisly sight of Star's dead body. The bile rising in his throat helped distract him from making any noise. His eyes watered with the effort of holding back both.

Holy shit! He had never seen a dead body that didn't belong to an already undead vampire. And he had certainly never seen the dead body of someone he _knew_. He hadn't expected the smell to be so putrid up close...

He tore his eyes away from her cloudy, very _dead_ eyes that were fixed in his direction.

God, who was going to tell Laddie?

"Sam!" Edgar hissed from the other side of the boathouse. "Over here!"

Sam tentatively edged around Star's body over to the Frog brothers. The door was just cracked open enough for them to hear the voices from outside.

What they heard next was shocking.

Mike was possessed! By their mom's vampire ex who had somehow survived That Night!

Jesus, it was like a punch in the gut finding out virtually all of their efforts That Night had been for nothing.

Sam was vaguely listening to the rest of whatever they were talking about so he wasn't entirely how or why the three vampires closest to the boathouse suddenly attacked each other.

Their brawl was savage, reminding Sam much of That Night when his brother faced off with these same vampires.

Edgar declared, "I say we let them duke it out then we take on whoever's left standing."

"I'm going after Mike," was all the warning Sam gave them before he was busting out of the safety of the boathouse towards his brother.

* * *

"...Kill each other."

The words were forcibly extracted from David's lungs as though Max had reached down into him and pulled them out with his claws.

He tried to fight the words back down, bar them from leaving his lips, but it was useless.

The memory of Rose's execution was still fresh in his mind and the heartbreaking sight before him was like history repeating itself while he stood by helplessly. He was desperately to tell them to _stop_, but Max had already given him the order to do no such thing. David was trapped in his own body, unable to do anything but watch as his loved ones hurt each other just as Max wanted.

As equally as he wanted to put a stop to the violence, he also wanted to put a violent end to Max.

"My mistake was keeping you at such a distance. I should have kept my children close. Where I could keep an eye on them," Max told him with Michael's stolen voice.

_Where you could keep them from using free will, you mean,_ David thought grimly.

All he could do was wait for a single second for Max to let his guard down. Make a mistake. Then he could kill this motherfucker once and for all.

The most unexpected thing happened next when Sam Emerson came running out of the boathouse with the Frog brothers hurriedly following him.

"Get out of my brother!" Sam cried, raising a water gun at Max's face.

Max appeared just as taken aback as David. He snapped his fingers and sent a thought to deal with the Frog brothers before he raised two placating hands in surrender. "Now Sam, this isn't what you think…" he started.

Sam did not look convinced in the slightest. "Screw you asshole! You're wearing my brother's body like a suit!"

Edgar and Alan flocked to Sam's left with their own water guns.

"Yeah! What is this? _Invasion of the Body Snatchers_?" Alan cut in.

"Exactly! You're supposed to be a vampire dammit!" Edgar chimed in.

David's eyes slanted with disdain before he reached out with lightning reflexes, batting the water guns out of the Frog brother's hands. The young hunters simultaneously cursed. Sam fumbled with his own water gun as he clumsily pivoted in David's direction but he was too slow. David had grabbed hold of each Frog brother and slammed their heads together, knocking them into unconsciousness.

"Son, please let me explain," Max commanded Sam's attention once more.

Sam's bottom lip trembled as he wildly brandished his toy weapon. "Don't call me that! I'm not your fucking son you creep!"

David had never related to Sam Emerson so hard until that moment.

Max didn't appear phased. He wore Michael's crooked smile with a sharp edge, defiling it in David's eyes. "Not yet you aren't."

Sam's aim wavered. "W-what is that supposed to mean?"

"I'll make you a deal Sam, because I want us to get along."

_What deal?_ David thought to himself, stuck in place. Merely watching this exchange like he was a fucking lawn ornament.

"What deal?" Sam echoed his thoughts.

"I'll let your brother be… if you agree to do one thing."

There it was. That gleam in Michael's eyes was all Max. The gleam that sparkled with triumph, that gloated in his immenient victory. David had almost forgotten how that gleam used to send chills down his spine only now it was a thousand times worse now that he could see it in Michael's fetching eyes. Eyes that David had at one time wanted nothing more than to stare into for hours. For eternity.

"What do you want from me?" Sam asked so quietly, as though he were afraid to ask.

Max smiled predatorily. "All you have to do is drink a little bit of my blood. Right here. Right now. Then I'll let your brother go."

Sam looked like he was about to pull the trigger and shoot burning holy water into Michael's stolen face for a moment. David eagerly awaited for the kid to do it. For someone to finally stand up to this sick fuck.

But then the moment swiftly passed and Sam was lowering his weapon, resigned.

"I'll do it."

_NO!_ David silently raged.

His family were trying to murder each other only a few yards away and this motherfucker was going to get everything he wanted and _win_.

Max pushed his sleeve up and made a deep cut to Michael's wrist with a claw. He beckoned Sam closer with a hooked finger. The teenager hesitated only once and then he was standing before Max, bringing his bleeding wrist to his mouth. Sam made a few swipes with his tongue, lapping up the blood before he quickly backed away.

_Congrats, you little shit,_ David thought darkly, unable to look away from the sickeningly familiar sight. _You just sold your soul to the devil._

Max applauded slowly. "You're making the right decision my b-" he cut himself off before he completed his sentence.

Sam and David each stared at Max in mounting confusion as the expression on his face twisted.

"S-sam! Please!" he suddenly cried. "K-kill me!"

Sam's eyes widened, the hand he was using to wipe away the red streak from the corner of his mouth pausing.

"Mike?"

Michael, his posture stiff as he strained for control, jerked his head in a nod. "Please. You have to kill me Sammy. It's the only way."

Sam glanced at the fallen water gun. It wasn't enough to do the deed and he knew it. "I- I can't do it."

"You're going to turn if you don't." His brother argued. "You have to save yourself. It's already too late for me..."

"He killed Star, Sam," David found himself saying out loud.

Fuck, it felt good to be back in control of himself.

_STOP!_ he sent the command to the other Lost Boys. _Stop trying to kill each other! Go find Max's body. It's in the house! End. Him._

Sam's shock at what David said must have surpassed the fact that he had finally spoken by far because he made no move to run. He seemed only slightly startled when Dwayne, Marko, and Paul stopped fighting and suddenly disappeared into the Widow's house.

"David…Please." Michael turned to him, sounding sincere and purely himself. "I know you want to."

He had half a mind to deny him and go after Max with the others out of spite. And yet, the guy was practically serving himself up on a platter. When would he ever come across such a sweet opportunity? But, he needed to stall long enough to give his boys a chance until Max's original body was disposed of.

Until then…

Michael's bottom lip trembled as he looked at his younger brother. His voice wavered. "Sam… tell mom and grandpa and Laddie… I'm sorry."

Stomach turning at the sentimental scene, David chose that moment to strike. He rushed forward in a blur, grabbed a hold of Michael, and dragged him into the boathouse.

David couldn't help but think back to That Night as he slammed Michael into the ground so he rolled into Star's mutilated corpse. That Night, Michael had put up such a fight. They both had. Michael had been fighting to stay alive; fighting to give his family a chance. David had been so full of rage he totally disregarded Max's plan, defying him for probably the first time ever. Even though he was still gutted and hollow from Michael's betrayal and Marko's murder, there was no room for mourning. Instead he was filled with a singular need for revenge.

This night was totally different compared to that night.

Any fight left in Michael was clearly directed inward to keep Max at bay. David almost felt like he was kicking around a man already down. Which, he supposed, he technically was.

Max had broken him. He knew what that was like better than anyone.

Was he being petty when he flattened the side of Michael's face into the concrete floor so he was forced to stare into Star's dead eyes that were inches from his own? Maybe. But fuck all if he wasn't going to make sure he enjoyed having Michael at his mercy.

Michael Emerson had it coming.

"Tell me Michael, was it worth it? Was she worth it?"

David wasn't honestly expecting an answer, but he couldn't deny that he wanted one. Part of him wasn't just buying the others time. He was desperate to hear Michael's reasons for turning on him and the other Lost Boys. This was his last chance to glean whatever information he could and this was Michael's last chance to gain a bit of redemption in David's eyes. Not much. But some. Maybe enough to matter.

"I'm sorry… for everything. If I could go back, I…"

"You what? You'll fight _with_ us instead of _against_ us? **I need to fucking hear you say it.**"

David didn't want to let himself imagine for a moment what life would have been like if Michael had just given in before Star ever got her hands on him. In the wake of That Night, David had learned that witches were real. Magic was real. Hell, fucking _time travel_ was real. It was entirely plausible for all of them to go back before That Night and change everything. And yet, that wasn't what David wanted.

_Boss, it's done. Max is done-zo,_ Marko sent him the thought.

"David…"

God, they way he said his name. A soft pleading sound, and at the same time strong with resignation. It made David's chest feel tight.

"Finish it. End this."

David wondered for a split second what exactly he meant by "this". He knew what _he_ wanted Michael to mean, the foolish, soft part of him anyway. And maybe Michael really did mean the same thing. _End this. End _**_us_**. But that would imply there ever was an "us".

"Goodbye Michael. And if you can still hear me, **FUCK YOU, MAX.**"

In the end, David held Michael's heart in his hand, even if he had to crack open Michael's chest and rip the organ from the gaping cavity to do it.


	19. A Crossroad (Or A Railroad Bridge)

October sat up with a sharp gasp, eyes wide, and heart pounding.

She looked around frantically, trying to place the dark room.

Sheets rustled next to her.

"October? Are you okay?" a diminutive voice whispered in the darkness, but she knew it was Marco who asked. He was the lightest sleeper out of all his brothers.

The remnants of her dream were already fading and she suddenly forgot what had jolted her awake.

She leaned back against the bed's headboard and breathed a sigh of relief as she placed her surroundings. They were in one of the boy's rooms in the hotel. A safe place. Home.

"I'm okay. Just a bad dream I think."

Marco yawned loudly and shuffled around until he sat beside her, his head resting on her shoulder. She felt a little bad for waking him up. He probably wouldn't be able to go back to sleep now.

An unexpected thought occurred to her. "Hey Marko, how did we get back to the hotel? What happened at my sister's?"

He yawned again, his breath warm against her neck. "You don't have to worry about that anymore," he told her dismissively before he brushed a kiss against her jaw.

October immediately wanted to press him for more answers, a sudden sense of urgency filling her with anxiety but the feeling left her just as suddenly when Marco dragged his lips over the shell of her ear.

"Let's get out of here. The others can meet up with us later," he whispered into her ear, voice full of mischief.

October licked her lips, her thoughts scattering. "Okay."

With complete disregard for the other slumbering members of their tribe, Marco and October crawled over their unconscious forms with barely stifled laughter. The next thing October knew, the two of them were speeding along empty roads towards a closed boardwalk.

She had no idea what time it was. It had to have been late because the sky was still a dark indigo so she wasn't worried for her vampire companion. Plus, it felt good to not worry about how much time there was until daylight spoiled their fun. For a moment she could pretend they had all the time in the world. Which, technically she supposed they did.

When they arrived at the empty boardwalk, Marco took her hand and led her down to the beach where they laid down in the sand, their fingers still intertwined.

This was nice. Between Marco laying beside her and the sound of waves crashing in the distance, October was content.

"I could get used to this," she remarked absently, curling into Marco's side, her head resting on his chest.

Marco chuckled and pulled her closer to him. "It doesn't have to end you know. Living with us? We could be together forever."

Her face scrunched up. "Witches don't live forever, Marco. At least, not in the same way you do."

He became silent.

She didn't like it, so she swung her leg over his waist and straddled him. He was forced to look up at her. His hands came to rest on her hips.

She started to lean down towards him and her eyes fluttered closed.

"You could live forever the same way we do," he told her when there was just a hair's breadth left between their mouths, causing her to stop short.

Her eyes cracked open and she looked down into his, searching.

She didn't know what to say. Was he suggesting… she turn?

The idea wasn't totally out there, she mused. Hell, she had been well on her way to becoming a vampire in her past life as Rose.

"Tell me you'll at least think about it?" he pleaded, rubbing comforting circles into her hips.

"I-" she bit her lip, unsure how to respond.

Why was she hesitating?

Something about that moment felt...off. But her witch's mark wasn't burning like it usually did when there was about to be trouble. Although, she was feeling a bit hot all over. She dismissed the sensation, blaming Marco for making her so hot and bothered.

"There you guys are!" Paul's unexpected voice called out. "You snuck out on us you jerks!"

October jerked her head in his direction and was blinded momentarily by the sunlight beating down on the beach.

"W-hoa, w-wait," she breathed shakily, panic seizing her entire body.

She scrambled to her feet, her raised trembling hands doing little to block the light from her eyes.

"Nononono! NO!" she cried, reaching for the magic at her fingertips, already thinking of a dozen spells to protect her loved ones. "You guys have to get out of here! The sun's up already!"

She cast her gaze about wildly, completely baffled as to why they weren't the slightest bit worried about their imminent annihilation.

Dwayne caught her wrists and forced her to lower her hands. She squinted at him in the light.

"Look," he said, nodding at the ground.

She did.

There was no shadow at his feet or any of the others for that matter.

"What the…"

David approached her cautiously, tilting her head to look up at him as he examined her face. "You don't remember that spell you used? After everything went down with the widow? The sunlight can't touch us now."

She had trouble following what he was telling her. The cogs in her head refusing to turn. She shook her head, trying to jumpstart her brain into catching up. There was something she was supposed to be remembering. Something crucial.

"Spell? There's a spell for that?" she mumbled, sounding unsure.

_Of course there's a spell for that._ The thought popped into her head and suddenly she felt silly for not remembering.

"Of course there's a spell for that!" she laughed.

"Atta girl!" Paul hollered, slapping her on the back. "Let's get you some water. You're probably still drunk on Marco's kisses," he teased.

She gasped in mock-offense. "Excuse you? How dare?"

Marco smacked his lips in a kiss and winked at her. Everybody laughed.

The five of them trudged back up the beach, weaving between the other beach goers October hadn't noticed before. In fact, the entire beach was packed with people enjoying the sand and the ocean. She felt unsteady from how easily she lost track of time. Hadn't it been night a minute ago?

Marco threw his arm around her, interrupting her musings. "It's going to be a great day. I can just tell."

She agreed and then all she could think about was how happy she was at that moment even as the sunlight beat down on the beach, searing her skin.

* * *

Why couldn't she remember what happened that night with her sister?

The feeling that something was horribly wrong had returned sevenfold, not to mention where she was feeling a little hot before she was now sweltering.

Her and the Lost Boys had returned to the hotel after their day at the boardwalk had passed in a blur. She couldn't recall anything after Paul, Dwayne, and David interrupted her and Marko.

"I can't remember…" she mumbled to herself before trailing off.

"You say something October?" David asked her from where he sat in his wheelchair.

She wiped beads of sweat from her brow. "Did I?" she asked, unsure.

She was perched on the fountain ledge with no idea how she had gotten there.

"I don't feel right," she whimpered, turning away.

"October?" Dwayne questioned, coming to stand in front of her.

Her gaze wandered around the room, taking in the space, focusing on the little details. Everything was a little blurry around the edges..

"Something's wrong. It's too hot," she groaned, turning around to stare into the fountain water running down the stone. "Need to wake up…"

_You are awake._ The thought appeared unbidden in her mind.

"I _am_ awake," she parroted to the water.

Wait.

Through the disarray of her thoughts she was able to make sense of one thing. There was someone in her head and it wasn't her.

"This isn't real."

"What isn't real? You're kinda scaring me babe," Paul told her from where he had joined her on the fountain ledge.

"Maybe she's having a bad trip?" Marco suggested from the other side of the fountain.

David stood up from the wheelchair and rounded the fountain. He claimed the other spot next to her on the ledge. "I can make it stop October."

Dwayne stepped closer, pressing the back of his hand to her forehead. "You're feverish."

His cold hand felt ridiculously good against her skin and she leaned into it. For a moment she doubted herself.

Maybe this _was_ real.

David took her hand and wrapped her fingers around a glass bottle. Dark liquid sloshed around inside, staining the glass red. She stared at David in confusion.

"Drink and then you'll feel better."

She opened her mouth to object but no words came out.

Why was she resisting? This was something she wanted, wasn't it?

_Just give in. Stop fighting._ The thought was insistent. So insistent that October found herself raising the bottle to her lips against her better judgement and took a swig.

She dropped the bottle as soon as she realized what she had done. Blood spilled across the floor.

"Be one of us October," David grinned devilishly as he reached out and shoved her into the fountain.

She went under, her arms flailing to gain a bit of leverage to pull herself up. Righting herself against the base of the fountain, she realized that the water had turned into blood and it was pouring down on her just like the infamous scene in _Carrie_ at the dance.

She closed her eyes and screamed while the Lost Boys laughed.

The witches mark on the nape of her neck burned like it was on fire which distracted her from the quake that shook the lobby until the walls came crashing down around them.

Her eyes snapped open.

The hotel was gone.

The boys were gone.

She was still in the widow's basement, pinned down by iron nails on a table like an insect on display.

"Put her under again damn it!" the widow herself, Maud, shrieked.

"I can't! She won't stop fighting me!" Her other sister, Jess, shouted in frustration.

October's mouth was paper dry. It really felt like she was burning up from the inside and there was a long matching cut running the length of her arms.

"You don't have to do this," she rasped, her throat scratchy and dry as all hell.

Maud scowled at her from the foot of the table. "Yes. Yes, I really do." For the first time ever, October was actually terrified of her sister.

"Did it ever occur to you that maybe Hecate placed me in your path all those centuries ago to keep you safe? To protect you?" October tried to reason.

"That's what you were doing when you sicced vampire hunters on my husband? You were 'protecting' me?" Maud sneered, her eyes burning with hatred. "You took _everything_ from me. Now I'm going to take everything from you."

Hooks dug into October's neck and _pulled_, it felt like. She tasted blood in the back of her throat.

She screamed. "FUCK! Stop! Please stop!"

"Maud, this is crazy even for you," Jess spat from the head of the table.

Maud dangled a porcelain doll in Jess' direction. October recognized the object for what it really was. An effigy*, which explained why Jess was helping Maud at all. She didn't have a choice.

"You'll do what I tell you no matter what. Now keep going."

The little girl jutted out her chin in defiance. "Fine," she complied begrudgingly.

October watched upside as Jess hefted the leather bound book up in her arms and closed her eyes. She recognized the book for what it was as well. A malleus maleficarum**, and from the way the lights flickered and how the house shook; it was a real one.

Whispers echoed around the room as the spell resumed.

_This might actually kill me,_ she thought to herself.

"You can't do this! Please, stop!" she cried out, writhing in agony.

Black ichor welled up along the deep gashes on her arms and her eyes rolled back in pain.

_No...it can't end like this. I can't lose the boys again. I just got them back…_

"YES! It's working!" Maud exclaimed in triumph as she dropped the effigy and held out her hands. "Your magic is mine."

The inky black ichor trickled down October's arms, pulled in Maud's direction like a magnet. Rivulets of ink stretch up, up into the air, detaching from her body completely and reaching for Maud's awaiting fingertips… before it splattered against the dirty basement floor.

Maud blinked in confusion. "Jessica, what just hap-"

The little girl no longer held the malleus maleficarum. Instead, in her small hands she clutched an effigy that looked exactly like Maud.

"I'm sorry, sister, but you brought this on yourself. May Hecate have mercy on your soul."

October and Maud looked on in horror as Jessica reared back her arm and sent the effigy into the cement wall where it shattered on impact.

October's passed out to the sound of her sister's screams.

* * *

The next time October wrenched her eyes open, she knew instantly she was _elsewhere_. Elsewhere, as in she was somehow on an entirely different plane of existence.

Although, technically speaking, she was standing on a railroad bridge which normally wouldn't be considered strange or otherworldly.

What really gave away the peculiarity of this world was the pulsing of the moon in the sky and how the light illuminating its surface waxed and waned by the second.

"Well if it isn't two out of three Weird Sisters."

October dragged her attention away from the hypnotic moonlight and realized she was not alone on the bridge. Maud stood beside her looking equally stunned to see her and before them was another woman whose appearance seemed to wax and wane at the same pace as the moon. First, she was no older than a young child. Then October blinked and that young child had matured into a grown woman. October blinked again and saw the grown woman was now an old crone. Another blink, _another phase of the moon_ October realized, the old crone was once again a young child.

"Hecate," Maud named the girl aloud.

The goddess smiled at the other woman. "It's been a long time."

October glanced from one woman to the other in confusion. "How is this possible? Isn't my vampire sister banned or something from your domain? You know, because she's a fucking vampire."

Hecate inclined her head, a patient smile on her wrinkled lips. "It is true only a witch may enter my domain and it is true your sister forsook the gift I gave her to become a vampire. However, a little bit of your magic, October, did touch your sister. It was enough that I was able to snatch her up from the beyond and bring her here so we can chat."

Maud scowled at Hecate. "_The beyond?_ You don't mean to say that I _died_."

October snorted. "Ha! Our big sister totally stabbed you in the back! Serves you right."

Maud rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. "You died too, genius."

Her older sister's words slowly sunk in. October's eyes widened briefly with alarm before slanting with utter disbelief.

"Shit!"

She ran her fingers through her hair as a lump of emotion built up in the back of her throat. There were so many loose ends she hadn't been able to tie up, specifically four of them. Was David even okay? Was Dwayne, Paul, and Marco going to find her dead body, bloodied and splayed on a table?

They had had a second chance to be together and she hadn't been able to say goodbye this time...

"Ahem," Hecate cleared her throat, gaining their attention again.

October looked to Hecate through a sea of tears.

Sympathy was etched into her features. "I hate to be the bearer of more bad news…" she hesitated.

Maud sighed, her rigid posture softening into something more resigned. "I can take a guess where this is going."

October immediately picked up what wasn't being said. "Neither of us are witches anymore because my magic is gone and Maud is technically a vampire which means-"

"Which means you're no longer under my protection," Hecate finished.

October's breath stuttered.

She was never going to see her boys ever again.

"So what happens now?" Maud cut in.

She glanced at her sister forlornly.

She couldn't even bring herself to believe that this was all Maud's fault. She knew part of the blame belonged to her. If only she had been able to convince Maud that her "one true love" was anything but before she turned. Or, hell, maybe she shouldn't have meddled in her sister's love life at all and let them ruin each other. Then, none of this would have happened.

Hecate clasped her small hands, her young and delicate features becoming stern. "You have a choice to make. It's a one time deal, so you have to be sure."

October wiped her eyes. "What's the deal?"

"I can offer you one more lifetime. A new one. A final chance to start over as ordinary humans."

Maud scoffed, placing her hands on her hips. "Ordinary humans? We wouldn't even have magic anymore?"

October clenched her now trembling hands into fists. "And when we die, we just… die?"

Hecate nodded solemnly. "Like I said before. It's a one time deal."

Maud pursed her lips. "And you probably won't tell us what era you're going to drop us off in."

The goddess mimed zipping her mouth shut.

Maud sneered. "I'll pass."

If she didn't know any better, October would say Hecate looked a little sad. Regardless, the goddess stepped aside and swept her arm in the direction behind her towards the other end of the bridge.

"Then you may cross this bridge and move on."

October watched silently as her sister brushed past her, her lips parted as though she was about to tell her something. Only, she wasn't sure what she wanted to say. She struggled to find the words. I'm sorry? I hate you, but I don't really? Goodbye? Nothing seemed to fit the bill. This would be the last time she saw Maud in any lifetime. She knew she had to make it count.

"I'll miss you," she told her sister's back.

Maud paused and October wondered if she would say something.

She didn't.

October watched as her sister continued on, head held high, back straight, and then disappeared on the other side of the bridge.

Hecate sidled up to her then. "So I take it you wish to take the deal?"

* * *

Notes: *A roughly made model of a particular person, made in order to be damaged or destroyed as a protest or expression of anger.

**The first comprehensive book of witchcraft and witchcraft prosecution.

(And this wasn't an asterisk but I felt I should include the info anyway for readers who aren't familiar with Greek mythology): Hecate was the goddess of magic, witchcraft, the night, moon, ghosts and necromancy.


	20. The New Blood

**November, 2020. Phoenix, Arizona**

Charlie's parents had certain expectations for their recent high school graduate daughter to which she found a way to subvert all of them.

For example, they wanted her to go college straight out of high school. It's not like she didn't get into a really nice school, either. She had. And for the entire summer she had let them believe what they wanted. When the end of August hit, Charlie really did pack up all her stuff and move out. Only, she had no intention of moving into a dorm or going to college at all. Charlie, or Charlie to her friends and Lottie to her enemies, had a very different set of expectations for her life.

She was going to hunt every last vampire to extinction even if she died trying.

Okay, so that might sound a little dramatic coming from an eighteen year old, but, hey, every motivational poster she'd ever read had told her to dream big.

It's not like she didn't have help. In fact, she had her uncle and his partners (Her uncle refused to call them his friends. They were "partners". Period.) and they had trained her well.

Alright, maybe not as well as they would've liked considering what happened two months after she was supposed to be attending college.

She would describe the night in question in three words:

Worst. Halloween. _Ever_.

* * *

As Charlie twisted and turned in front of the mirror, she studied her reflection with a critical eye. The bandages had come off a few days ago and the wound had scarred over well enough _if_ she was being generous.

She tugged on the end of a strand of her short hair, regretting the fact it was cut so short. Her short hair just barely brushed the top of the scar. If only she had longer hair it would cover her new scar, no problem. Unfortunately the eye was irrepressibly drawn straight to the jagged lines stretching across the nape of her neck.

The doctors had said she was lucky, that she could have suffered brain damage or a spinal injury. It was the blood loss that had really put her in danger, but that's a given when it comes to vampire hunting, not that that is what she told her parents.

The "official" story was that she had been attacked by a pack of animals while camping with her uncle which was the last thing her parents had wanted to hear for more than one reason.

1\. Their daughter was supposed to be across the country in college. Not camping with estranged family members.

2\. Their daughter had almost died.

In that order.

Now she was home, whether she liked it or not, while she recovered.

Huffing in annoyance at her reflection, she roughly tied the kite bandana scarf around her neck and called it good.

"It's like I'm on house arrest," she muttered bitterly to herself and then smirked.

She looped her arms through the straps of her backpack and locked up behind her. "I'd like to see someone on house arrest do _this_," she chuckled.

* * *

The sound of bells clunking together announced her entrance as she shoved open the door to the diner, although the sound was drowned out by the goings on of the already noisy diner. She was quick to spot her uncle and she ducked past a harried waitress carrying two trays of food. Her uncle was just as quick to notice her approach and he beamed at her from a booth towards the back of the diner.

She took the short time it took to cross the dinner and studied her uncle's haggard appearance. The dark circles around his eyes were prominent as though he hadn't slept in days. She was sure her parents had given him a hard time since they got the call that their daughter had almost been mauled to death on her uncle's watch.

"Hey, kiddo, it's been a minute," he greeted cheerfully as she slid into the booth. "How have you been?"

She forgoed a reply and went straight for one of the glasses of water that her uncle must have ordered while he waited. His brow furrowed as she slurped down half the glass before reaching for the napkin dispenser and grabbing a fistfull to dab at her brow. He opened his mouth like he wanted to say something, hesitated, and then tried again.

"Did you _run_ here?" he asked, finally.

She removed her backpack and snorted. "What do you think?"

He blinked at her in disbelief. "We're several miles from your parents place and you just got out of the hospital. You shouldn't be running _anywhere_."

She rolled her eyes at the man as a waitress came to take their lunch order.

"I'm all better. One hundred percent recovered," she told him as the waitress left to put in their orders. "When's the next mission?"

The expression on her uncle's face became inscrutable at her question and Charlie felt a growing sense of dread.

"Charlie," her uncle started and she knew instantly he hadn't agreed to meet with her despite her parents wishes because they were going to pick up where they left off.

She immediately scoffed. "You're unbelievable."

Her uncle looked pained. "Charlie you almost _died_. Hell, I was sure you _were_ dead for a minute there before we got you to help. You were lucky. You might not be next time."

Her eyes narrowed. "I could say the same for you, you do realize that, right? It's not like you're getting any younger. Any of you," she raised her voice at the end and the two figures hiding their faces behind a pair of newspapers in the booth across from theirs grumbled.

Edgar and Alan Frog threw down their newspapers and glared at her.

"Charlotte," Alan greeted in his usual monotone voice.

His brother merely grunted.

She flipped them both off.

"Screw you guys," she snapped at her uncle. "Yeah, I took a hit. A bad one. That I won't deny. But I lived and I won't stop until they're all dead."

She grabbed her backpack. "You can either help me or get out of my way."

Sliding out of the booth, she made for the exit before anyone could get a word in edgewise.

Her uncle slumped down in his seat as he watched her go. Alan and his brother slid into the seat Charlie had vacated.

Alan offered a sympathetic half smile. "You tried, Sam."

"If the internet has taught me anything it's that teenage girls and vampires don't mix well," Edgar grumbled, crossing his arms.

Sam let his partner's unhelpful words slide right off his back.

"She's only a year older than Michael was when he died."

Alan traded a look with his brother which Sam decidedly ignored.

"I never should have brought her into this."

Edgar tapped the table to gain his attention. "Hey, she was already in it when she reached out to us. At least now she knows how to take care of herself because of what we taught her."

Alan nodded in agreement. "Michael didn't have any training. You shouldn't blame yourself for what happened to him any more than for whatever choices Charlie makes from here on."

Sam squinted at the two brothers, wondering how he had put up with them after all these years before moving to exit the booth. "We should go after her," he announced suddenly.

Edgar chuckled. "She's an adult now, Sam. You need to let her do this on her own."

Sam's face hardened for a moment as their words sunk in despite his best efforts to shrug them off. He sighed loudly before slumping down into the booth. "We couldn't stop her if we tried."

Alan smirked. "We are getting too old for this shit."

Sam scowled.

"Shut up Alan."

* * *

**Santa Carla, California**

Charlie had circled the block at least five times, and with each rotation she grew more and more frustrated. The bus ride from Arizona had been far from comfortable and she just wanted to find her cheap hotel so she could rest before her real mission began.

And yet, here she was standing in front of a psychic shop instead.

"God damn it," she swore at the glowing neon sign of an eye staring vacantly out at her from the window and then glanced down at her phone.

It was the right address but she couldn't for the life of her figure out why her uncle had sent her there.

She quickly reread his text, searching for any clue as to what he was playing at.

_Trust me on this_

"Trust you, huh?" she scoffed.

Meow!

Charlie cast a baleful eye from her phone to where the irksome mew came from.

A mangy looking black cat stared back at her with round, almost expectant eyes as it stood in the psychic shop's front entrance. Charlie raised a brow and glanced up and down the street, looking for the animal's owner.

She was alone, the surrounding street empty. Her mouth dipped into a frown as she looked at the cat once more.

"What?" she demanded rudely.

In lieu of answering, the cat took its paw and scratched repeatedly at the door's surface.

Charlie grit her teeth at the irritating noise. The cat mewed at her again, this time a touch louder and for a longer duration.

She huffed her annoyance and rolled her eyes. "Fine!"

Tucking her phone away, Charlie strode up to the door and threw it open. The cat immediately darted inside the shop with a delighted mew. After a second's hesitation she followed the creature inside, apprehension growing in the pit of her stomach as she did.

She recalled the sign in the store window had said 'open', but she was still cautious entering the unfamiliar space. Her senses were bombarded with the garish decorations filling up her surroundings to an astounding degree. The place hadn't looked that big to begin with from outside and yet everywhere she turned there was just more _stuff_. Occult looking artifacts and furniture that had seen better days littered every square inch of the shop. She had completely lost sight of the cat.

The door slammed itself shut behind her causing her to nearly jump out of her skin.

"It's about time!" a new voice boomed from behind a partition and Charlie instinctively reached for her cleverly concealed knife. "Are you going to stand there all day or are you going to get over here so I can take a look at 'ya?"

Meow! The cat echoed presumably its owner also from behind the partition.

Charlie forced the tension from her body and left her weapon alone. It simply wouldn't do if she brandished a knife at a random civilian.

She shuffled over to the person, an older woman pushing forty she now realized, and found her sitting at an empty round table. For some odd reason, she struggled to place where she had seen the woman before, which was impossible because she was certain they had never met before.

The cat leapt onto the table and the woman quickly shooed it away and down to the floor.

"I hope that's your cat. It was really eager to get in here or something," Charlie told the woman, still trying to shake the feeling that she was supposed to know who exactly she was.

The woman reached down to pat the animal on the head, much to its indifference. "It actually belonged to my little sister but she had to leave the furball behind. So now we're stuck together." She straightened up in her seat and gestured at the empty chair at the table's opposite end.

Charlie sat down reluctantly, very much aware of every object she could use as a makeshift weapon in the room if she needed to. She hadn't seen any other exit beside the front door and an open window. All the while, this strange woman stared at her dead on. Charlie struggled not to squirm in her seat.

A large black bird ruffled its feathers from a perch by the open window.

"So I don't know if my uncle mentioned I'd be stopping by or not, but I'm Charlie," she introduced herself, albeit awkwardly as she eyed what had to be the woman's pet bird.

The woman beamed at her when she glanced away from the large bird. "Charlie! I heard you were hurt pretty bad about a month ago but you look good. You know, I was really surprised to hear from Sam after all these years. He makes a habit of avoiding this town like the plague," the woman remarked vaguely.

Charlie already knew why her uncle refused to set foot in Santa Carla for the same reason she was determined to make her first solo hunt there.

"You can call me Jess," the woman said.

Charlie snorted. "That's not very psychic sounding."

Jess smirked at her. "And what exactly is a psychic sounding name in your book?"

She shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know. 'The All Knowing Agatha'? 'Fortune-Telling Sal'?"

Jess laughed at that. "Oh kid, I missed you."

Wait, what?

"Huh?" Charlie asked in confusion. "Have we met before?"

Ignoring her question, Jess procured a deck of cards from somewhere she hadn't noticed. "Shall we begin your reading?"

Charlie felt a little out of her depth as she blinked slowly at the woman. "Reading?"

"Tarot reading, dear," Jess elaborated as she pushed the deck across the table. "Go ahead and shuffle those."

"I'm going to stop you right there. I don't really believe in this stuff, and even if I did, I don't think my uncle would send me here for tarot reading." Charlie passive aggressively pushed the deck of cards back across the table.

"Just so I'm clear; the girl who hunts creatures of myth and legend doesn't believe in psychic readings?" Jess cocked her head and shoved the cards right back at her.

The bird cawed loudly like it was laughing at her and Charlie floundered for a response.

"That's what I thought, now shut up and shuffle the damn cards."

"I don't have to pay for this, do I?" Charlie asked dubiously as she reached for the cards.

"I'll give you the family discount," Jess replied with a wink.

Pursing her lips in displeasure, Charlie took the stiff cards and began to shuffle them halfheartedly. When she was done amusing the woman, she placed the deck neatly in the center of the table. She stared at Jess expectantly and crossed her arms defiantly. "Aren't you going to ask me what I want to know?"

Jess scoffed as she pulled the first two cards from the top of the deck. "I _already_ know what you want. You're here right now because _you_ don't know what you really want."

Charlie scowled. "Spare me the gimmick. I know what I want."

Jess raised a curious brow as she placed the two cards beside one another and flipped them over.

Charlie uncrossed her arms and slammed her fists on the table. "I _want_ to destroy all vampires. This is a huge waste of time and my uncle knew that when he sent me here."

Jess rolled her eyes at her angry display. "I'm just going to do a two card spread so you can be on your way as soon as possible, then."

She gestured to the first card. "Okay, so this card represents your current challenge."

Charlie forced herself to look at the card and was immediately skeptical. "The Hanged Man? Is someone going to torture me today? Oh, no, wait. I see. It's a metaphor for what's happening right now."

Jess drummed her fingers on the table with thinly veiled impatience. "The Hanged Man represents letting go, breaking old patterns, and circumspection."

Charlie's eyes slanted. "Is this your way of telling me I need to give up hunting or my uncle's?"

Jess ignored her question and pointed to the other card. "This card represents a catch-all solution to a problem you may encounter today."

Charlie's skin crawled as she peered at the card's stark image of a skeleton atop a white horse with bold lettering beneath the image declaring it 'DEATH'.

"How the fuck is my death considered a solution?" she snapped at the woman.

Jess waved her off. "Don't take this card so literally. Death can represent change, new beginnings, or metamorphosis."

Having reached her threshold for putting up with psychic nonsense, Charlie pushed away from the table and stood. "This was fun, though you should note the sarcasm in my voice. You can bill my uncle and tell him he's hilarious; oh, and better luck next time. I'm gonna go now."

Her back was turned to the woman and she heard her quiet sigh. She was just about to turn the corner back towards the main entrance when Jess spoke up.

"You'll be tempted to scope out the boardwalk tonight. Don't bother. They don't hang around there like they did back in the day. The place is a fucking tourist trap now if I ever saw one. You'd have better luck over by the fancy, private vacation homes."

Charlie glanced over her shoulder, slightly taken aback.

Jess leaned on the table, balancing her chin on her clasped hands, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

The corner of Charlie's mouth quirked up. "Thanks for the tip."

Jess watched Charlie disappear behind the partition and listened to the bells on the front door jingle, a sense of nostalgia warming her heart as she reclined against the back of her chair.

Meow! The black cat reminded her of its presence and jumped into the woman's lap.

Jess absently scratched behind its ears.

"It's only a matter of time now," she said, her gaze fixed across the room at a sand clock placed at the center of an altar. "Sorry Sammy. This probably isn't what you had in mind when you sent her my way."

* * *

Charlie waited until nightfall to make her move. For as inept as the cops were in a town like Santa Carla, Charlie didn't want to risk getting caught trespassing while she reconned the neighborhood during the day. What other choice did she have than to go in blind and pray her ability to improvise was up to task?

Another she hadn't accounted for was a decent exit strategy. Her motel was nowhere near the upper class neighborhood so walking was definitely out of question. In the end she resigned herself to… taking an uber. The entire ride from her motel to the beach houses was filled with awkward small talk with her driver during which Charlie repeatedly cursed the fact that she didn't own a car. A sense of trepidation struck her when her uber finally dropped her off and sped away, leaving her alone and admittedly ill prepared for the fight she was about to walk into. On the bright side, her research from earlier had proved fruitful after trudging through social media until she heard tale of a rager at the address she now stood before.

Cars lined both sides of the street in front of the modern monstrosity that called itself a beach house. Music blared from within and if it weren't the off season for vacation dwellers, Charlie was certain a score of neighbors would be calling in complaints for the disturbance.

She strode up the concrete driveway, passing a couple of impressive motorcycles, confirming her prey were indeed inside the house somewhere.

The door was already open and not a single person batted an eye at her intrusion. She blended in seamlessly with the groups of young party goers milling about the interior of the house. Thank goodness for Santa Carla's chilly nights or she would have stuck out like a sore thumb with her bulky jacket that she was able to conceal an arsenal of weapons.

With a trained eye she scanned the various guests, intent on picking out her prey as she made her way through the house. Her uncle and his partners might have taught her a thing or two, but she had figured out how to pick a vampire out of a crowd all by herself. The biggest give away was how they moved. Smooth. Confident. There was a magnetic pull that drew people to them like moths to a flame. Charlie used to wonder what it was about them that appealed to so many. Sure they could be effortlessly charming, but you could still pick up on something _more_ beneath that charming veneer. Something dangerous. Charlie might have fallen for it once, but never again.

She needed to find a vantage point where she could observe the party goers in the main room and those who drifted in and out over by the door leading to the outdoor deck. First, she snagged a can of coke from the kitchen to make her seem more inconspicuous and made for the staircase along the wall. People seemed to be avoiding the second floor as most of the action was on the first floor anyway so Charlie planted herself on a step in the middle where she could see everything.

She clasped her hands around the perspiring soda can and surveyed the room below. Recalling her own high school experience, she spotted the various cliques, the pack leaders and the sheep who were just along for the ride. It wasn't too difficult to discern who was with who, and who _wanted_ to be with who either. Most importantly, she could distinguish who was a posturing human, and who was looking for their next kill.

"Do you wanna see a picture of my dog?" someone asked as they plopped down next to her out of nowhere.

Charlie cursed out loud, nearly jumping out of her skin. She glared at the new person seated on the same step as her with half a mind to bash their skull in with her coke. It was some blond guy with his phone out as he beamed at her in a friendly manner as though he hadn't just snuck up behind her and scared the shit out of her.

"His name is Paul Jr.," the guy continued even though she never answered his question.

Eye twitching, Charlie internally scrambled to find a way out of this social entrapment. She still had a job to do damn it! And here _this guy_, albeit kinda hot guy, comes along and scrolls through his phone gallery and brandishes a picture of a cute pomeranian curled up against a couch arm, sleeping.

_Aaaaww!_ Charlie's heart sang as she looked at the adorable picture. Her mouth curved into a smile.

"He's cute, right?"

Charlie's gaze returned to this stranger and faltered. Despite his happy-go-lucky countenance that put her at ease whilst she was distracted, she was immediately put on guard again. Something in her keen instincts whispered not to trust that pretty face, or those baby blues. Maybe it was the fact that he had been able to sneak up on her, which was already incredibly difficult to begin with, that screamed creature of the night. Or maybe it was the dried specks of what she suspected to be blood on his boots.

She faked a smile, calculating how she could get this blood sucker alone.

"I'm guessing you're Paul Sr.?" she asked, adopting a light, teasing tone.

He grinned at her, showing off his very white teeth. "That's my name, don't wear it out," he joked.

She watched him put his phone away and raised a brow. "Aren't you going to ask me for my phone number?"

His eyes widened briefly in surprise before his expression turned coy. "Didn't want to get ahead of myself. You could really be a cat person for all I know."

She giggled while holding in the urge to roll her eyes.

"How about a tour of the place? We can talk and get to know each a little better," he suggested, already moving to his feet.

She took his hand when he offered it to help her to stand. "Perfect!" she chirped, assured that this "tour" was definitely going to lead them to somewhere vacant and secluded.

As Paul led her down the stairs, Charlie had a strange feeling. It reminded her of Psychic Jess and how Charlie was sure she knew the woman beforehand but couldn't place _how_ exactly. But that was impossible because she had never seen this man before. Her uncle didn't have any pictures of the men who killed her other uncle; the one she never got the chance to meet and the entire reason she was in Santa Carla at all.

"Pauly, where ya going?"

Paul and Charlie paused on the steps and turned around.

There was something eerily familiar about this man she felt as she sized him up. Her gaze carefully, or perhaps _indulgently_, drank in the sight of his strapping build and by the time her eyes trailed up to his tempting mouth her head was swimming.

She tore her eyes away, fighting to reign in this new sensation.

The new comer cocked his head curiously, eyes smouldering into hers. "Who's your new friend?" he asked Paul.

Paul's eyes widened comically as it quickly dawned on him that he never asked for her name.

She genuinely laughed at his expression. "My friends call me Lottie," she supplied, the lie slipping off her tongue with ease.

Paul grinned sheepishly. "That's David," he introduced the other blond at the top of the stairs with a jerk of his head.

Charlie's heart nearly leapt into her throat. _Holy shit! That's the one who killed uncle Michael!_

"Come and meet the boys, Lottie." The way he said it was more of a demand and left no room for refusal.

She blinked in surprise, amazed at how easy that was and then quickly plastered a smile on her face. "Sure!"

He flashed his teeth in a sharp grin before pivoting, wordlessly indicating they should follow him. Paul offered his arm in a joking manner and Charlie took hold, noting to herself the solid muscle he possessed. They climbed the rest of the stairs followed David down a corridor that led to an open plan living room that was lavishly furnished. Two men were smoking and speaking softly on the outdoor balcony.

"You'll never believe who Paul just found," David drawled lazily to the two men.

They both ceased their conversation and turned to face Charlie and Paul. One of the men who had a riot of curls and fetching Romanesque features perked up as soon as his gaze landed on her. He quickly stubbed out his cigarette and made his way over to her. The other man a few steps behind, stalked across the room with a predatory grace that made her heart jack hammer in her chest.

"Marko, Dwayne, may I introduce you to Lottie," David continued, addressing the two.

The curly blond smirked and gave a two fingered salute. His companion, Mr. Tall-Dark-and-Handsome, crossed his arms as he gazed at her stoically. Charlie fought to keep herself from fidgeting under his intense stare.

She managed a small smile. "Nice to meet all of you."

Charlie was hyper aware of every single weapon she had concealed on her person. She mentally catalogued each weapon as she looked around the circle they stood in. While it wasn't exactly ideal to have them all so close when the fight started, she remained undaunted. She had to move fast before another party guest decided to venture upstairs.

"Paul?" She turned to the blond who's arm she still clung to.

He looked to her with a question in his eye. "Hm?"

"I would say this isn't personal," she began, shifting her stance slightly as she subtly reached for a wooden stake, "but that would be a lie."

The adrenaline rush that came with catching the vampire off guard as she plunged a stake between his ribs and into his heart was dizzying.


	21. Finally

Chaos erupted as the other vampires howled. The pandemonium was lost to the thumping music downstairs. A blessing really. Charlie wasn't sure _what_ would happen if someone happened to come upstairs and witness three men with demonic faces attacking a single, well armed girl.

Was it her imagination or were they pulling their punches. They were supposed to be **_faster_**. **_Stronger_**. Over all more **_powerful_** than her and yet…

No, decided. They had to be toying with her. Lulling her into a false sense of security.

Well.

Underestimating her would be their last mistake.

A savage swipe of her hunting knife and she managed to drive David back as he growled.

With a quick maneuver she ferociously stabbed Marko in the heart with the same knife.

Dwayne snarled as he rushed at her. He barreled into her, violently knocking her off her feet. She fumbled with another stake as they went down hard and blindly thrust up into the vampire's chest. His solid body bore down on hers and the stake luckily. He grunted as it pierced his heart, his eyes going wide. Charlie was caught in his stare as she lay frozen beneath him. Gradually, his eyes closed and his body went limp on top of her.

Tears pricked at the corner of her eyes, though at first she wasn't sure why.

_Oh god what have I done?_ The thought popped into her head unbidden.

Her stomach roiled and bile rose in her throat. Suddenly she felt disgust. Disgust at herself no less for what she had just done because _she remembered now_. She remembered October and she remembered how much she loved the men she just murdered.

She cried out in anguish and she struggled to squirm out from under Dwayne's dead body. This must have gone on for hours, or so it felt like but she deserved to be tortured after the atrocity she just commited. Finally, his body was lifted off of her and rolled over onto her side as she gasped for breath around the lump of emotion stuck in her throat.

"Charlie? Hey! Look at me Charlie!"

She blinked through the sea of tears in her eyes at David who leaned over her with a doleful expression. Not believing her eyes, she raised a trembling hand to his throat where she had cut him. The collar of his shirt was bloody but his skin unharmed.

"David," she breathed in amazement, fullon tremors shaking her body. "You're alive!"

She reared up and threw her arms around him as a river of tears flowed down her face. "I remember now! It's me! I'm October! I'm back!" she sobbed.

"Oh thank fuck that wasn't for nothing," someone groaned.

Charlie wrenched herself away from David and watched as Paul heaved himself up from the floor. Dwayne and Marko were quick to follow, neither worse for wear as their injuries healed miraculously. More tears of guilt misted her eyes as she clutched at David's sleeve.

"I thought I killed you all…" she whimpered, closing her eyes, unable to bring herself to meet anyone's eye.

David wiped away the tears on her downturned face, causing her breath to catch. He lifted her chin with a finger and she finally opened her eyes. She sunk her teeth into her bottom lip as he offered her a small, encouraging smile. Her face flushed and her gaze darted away, needing to look at someone else.

Dwayne regarded her with a look of mild amusement. "That should make us about even now. We've really got to stop meeting like this."

Charlie sniffled. "How is this even possible?"

Marko crawled over to her and wrapped her in his arms.

"I'm sorry, but you must be a really shitty hunter if you forgot the most important rule when it comes to vampires," he whispered teasingly into her ear. "You are rendered powerless if a vampire has an invitation into the house. Remember?"

Charlie was overwhelmed with emotions at that moment, but relief sang the loudest right next to soul crushing embarrassment. It quickly dawned on her how many successful past hunts had been due to sheer dumb luck. To be fair, she was kinda new at this. In this lifetime anyway.

"Don't feel bad Charlie," Paul cut in and she pulled away from Marko. "Jess said you to mortally wound us if we wanted to jog your memory. It was part of a ritual."

Charlie laughed darkly and ducked her head to swipe at her eyes. "That was really fucked up of her. I can't believe _you let me kill you_ just because my sister said you had to."

Her boys chuckled at that and then the room faded into an awkward silence.

"Could really use a glamor to sneak out of here looking like this," Paul said suddenly, inspecting his bloody shirt.

They all looked to Charlie with varying expressions of accusation at the damage to their ruined wardrobe.

She wrung her literally red hands together and winced.

It felt like coming home as Charlie rolled up to Hudson's bluff on the back of Dwayne's bike even though it was for the first time. The other Lost Boys eagerly led her down the eternally rickety wooden stairs, though it looked like someone had attempted repairs at one point in the last couple of decades.

Charlie's eyes lit up as they entered the underground hotel. Paul Jr. came scampering up to greet the group, yipping happily. Paul shooed the pomeranian away to give her some space to just look around.

The lobby looked just as she had remembered it. She couldn't believe her spell held up after everything that happened. The lobby was perfectly preserved, decadently frozen in the height of its time. Naturally, she glanced over at the front desk, and more specifically the empty space hanging over it.

"We tore down Max's portrait and burned it after that night," David explained.

Her mouth set in a hard line. "Good."

Marko laced his fingers with hers and tugged her in the direction of their rooms with an ecstatic grin. As a group they made their way down the hallway and stopped in front of her old room.

"We hang out here a lot, but we tried to keep everything just as you left it," Paul told her as he pushed open the door for her much to her chagrin.

The boys hung back so she could enter first.

She surveyed the room quickly and the only difference she could spot was the giant flatscreen TV mounted on the wall above the old square set. Venturing further into the room, she made her way over to the big poster bed and fell back into the plush covers. Sneaking a subtle sniff into the covers, she breathed the Lost Boy's familiar, faint scent in and sighed.

"We missed you," Marko told her softly from where he leaned up against one of the bed posts.

Charlie sat up. "I swear I'm not going anywhere from here on out. Okay? Never again."

David stood at her bedside with his hands in his pockets. "Do you want to make that official?" he asked with a single brow raised.

Charlie connected the dots in an instant. "You mean like…?" she trailed off.

David gave a half smile and cocked his head.

She wondered just how many times they had already had this conversation. How many times she'd fantasized about drinking from the infamous bottle of wine. As she sifted through her memories of her life as October, she found she couldn't quite recall if she had ever had the chance before.

A line formed between her brows and she glanced away from him.

Dwayne caught the subtle change in her face and spoke up when she didn't. "We should talk first."

Paul guffawed from where he sprawled on the small couch along the wall, his legs draped over Dwayne's lap. "That's how you _know_ it's serious when _Dwayne_ wants to talk," he joked.

Dwayne shot a glare in the rocker's direction that swiftly shut him up. He shoved Paul's legs off of him and hopped up from the couch. He approached the bed cautiously and only when Charlie met his eye did he sit down.

"Go ahead," he encouraged her. "Ask us anything."

Charlie shifted on the bed so she sat criss cross style. Her gaze darted around the room at each vampire, thinking.

She licked her lips and her forehead creased. "Okay, first explain to me the spell that Jess supposedly cast on me. What did it do exactly?"

"Well, before we can explain that, we should tell you everything that happened after the night we lost you," David plopped down on the bed, sitting opposite Dwayne.

"Alright, what happened?"

David traded a glance with Dwayne before he continued. "Max was dealt with _finally_. Together, we went to look for you inside the widow's house and we found Jess. Just her. She had been waiting for us. She told us what happened, that you were gone and so was the widow."

Marko curled an arm around the bedpost. "We couldn't believe we lost you again."

"We begged her," Paul piped up and then paused thoughtfully, "well, David basically threatened her to resurrect you the same way you resurrected us. But apparently that was against the rules or something."

"We were devastated and Jess took pity on us. She explained what usually happens when a witch dies, that they usually reincarnate in some other lifetime," David said. "She also said that because of _how_ you died, the chances of your reincarnation were slim to none. We asked her if there was anything she could do to find you - the next you, anyway - just in case. After all, we're going to live forever so we could wait for however long it would take."

Charlie refrained from interrupting with what she could remember from her side of things. "And then what happened?"

"Jess' spell could only search for as long as she was alive. So when she would eventually die of old age, we would have no way of finding you."

Her heart broke for them. Why did their lives have to be so fucking complicated? Why couldn't anything ever be simple for them?

"But," Paul interjected, "then last Halloween happened. Jess finally got a hit on your location."

A corner of her mouth twitched. "And you found me."

Dwayne chuckled. "Yeah. We found out ol' Sam Emerson had a half niece that was hell bent on destroying us. Guess we were destined to end up with an Emerson one way or another."

_Hecate, you sure have one weird sense of humor,_ Charlie thought to herself.

"This must be weird for you," she noted with a cringe. "Every time we cross paths I'm basically a different person."

Dwayne's gaze trailed from hers down her face and lingered on the handkerchief scarf tied around her neck. He delicately reached out a hand and tugged the scarf away. "We will love you no matter what face you're wearing," he confessed in a low timber that did things to her.

Her heart stuttered as he scooted closer to her on the bed and leaned in to press a kiss to the side of her throat as he cupped the back of her neck. Charlie was putty in his hand.

To think, this reunion never would have happened if she hadn't botched a hunt with her uncle and nearly died. Although, looking back, Charlie realized that maybe she had crossed over for a moment and in that moment Hecate unlocked something in her fate.

Dwayne lovingly swiped a thumb over the scars on her neck. "We're sorry for putting you through everything that happened tonight. Jess told us about a ritual that would at least return your memories of October and it required you to spill our blood. We didn't want to take any chances so we made sure we were protected before we ran into each other."

"I don't know whether I should thank you or apologize," she laughed breathlessly, her eyes fluttering from the sensations the vampire was sending down her spine.

"Don't apologize," Marko argued. "We should apologize. We could only return your memories from when you lived as October."

Dwayne pulled away from her and shook his head, appearing forlorn and regretful. "Hundreds of different lifetimes, erased."

"That's gotta be a witch's worst nightmare," Paul lamented as he fidgeted in his seat.

David frowned. "You probably don't remember your life as Rose. When we met for the first time ever."

She shrugged. "You'll just have to remember for me. Or better yet..."

Charlie took a moment to probe what memories she did retain and sure enough, she couldn't remember a time before October. The idea didn't terrify her as much as she thought it would. So she could hardly remember what it was like to exist as a witch. So what?

If this was her last lifetime as Hecate had warned her it would be, she would make the most of it. That was the beauty of being human, there were endless opportunities for transformation.

Suddenly Jess' tarot reading made a lot of sense to her.

"Let's make new memories. Forever."

The lights were turned down low in the lobby, but the music was turned up loud as shadows danced in the candle light. Paul danced around the rim of the fountain, banging his head and shredding the air guitar. Dwayne circled the fountain on a skateboard with Paul Jr. nipping at his heels. Charlie and Marko were perched on the front desk as they scrolled through Marko's phone gallery.

"Oh man! I missed that time Dwayne had a man bun!" she complained loudly.

Marko laughed. "Too bad I don't have any pic's of Paul's "Scene Phase". He made me delete those years ago."

Charlie squealed in delight as she pawed through a box of polaroids. "You had 90's noodle hair?!" She threw her head back and laughed.

He gave her a lopsided grin and she continued to rifle through the pictures. She pulled out a yellowed image of David and smiled.

"Damn, David makes Grunge look _gooood_," she whistled.

"He makes everything look good," Marko quipped.

"This much is true," David interrupted the two as he sidled up to the front desk with a wine bottle in hand. "But enough of that. We have an eternity to catch up. For now, it's time."

"I'll say!" Paul hollered as he hopped off the fountain's edge and made his way over to the front desk.

"A long time coming!" Dwayne agreed with a roguish grin as he rolled up beside him.

Charlie set aside the box of polaroids and reached greedily for the glass bottle, after which she paused and squinted at the label. "What happened to the 'wine drink'? This is a totally different bottle than last time."

David shrugged and leaned back against the front desk. "We lost that one to another earthquake in 1989."

"We seriously considered leaving Santa Carla after that, but your sister talked us out of it. At that point she sorta became like our little sister," Marko mused.

Charlie weighed the wine bottle in her hand thoughtfully, the liquid inside sloshing against glass. "I can't imagine this place without you guys. This will always be your home."

Paul playfully nudged her leg hanging over the edge of the desk. "And now it will be yours too."

As her fingers curled delicately around the neck of the wine bottle, Charlie took a second to take in the matching hungry grins gracing each boy's youthful face. She felt the corners of her own mouth curve up into a wicked smirk as ravenous want churned in her gut. In a fell moment, she shed her loyalties from the rigid morals Sam Emerson and the Frog brothers had drilled into her.

_To hell with them._

Even though she wasn't able to remember exactly when she first crossed paths with these vampires, she could feel it deep within her very soul that she was _literally_ re-born to be one of them.

With fervent fingers, she uncorked the bottle.

"I'll drink to that."

The End.


End file.
